Just Coffee
by seriouslyjess
Summary: Set after Wilson's Heart. He needed someone, she needed someone. They were friends, and they needed each other to heal. And it was, after all, just coffee. Right? Will be H/Cam and Wilson/OC eventually.
1. Chapter 1

So I know I promised you new chapters of my other fics, and they will be up soon because school ends next Friday and I will be able to focus more on my writing. But I had an idea, and it just refused to go away. Thanks to MissingCanceledShow for betaing.

* * *

**Just Coffee**

**Chapter 1: Coffee**

It had been a long day. The ER was been hectic – more hectic then usual. A little boy in a four car pile-up had come in. He had been six years old and she had watched him die.

He reminded her of Jacob. With his big brown eyes and silky soft hair.

When he had first come in he had been awake and talking.

_You won't let him get me, right AJ?_

_You'll take care of me Dr. Allison?_

She had promised them both. And she had let them down. Watched them die.

Currently she was sitting in the cafeteria staring into her disgusting cup of cold, muddy coffee and cursing the world.

The work day had ended about five hours ago, as had visiting hours so the place was practically empty.

There were the few people huddled around tables in the cafeteria. Those people either had a loved one in ICU or someone in a very long, emergency surgery. Other then those precious few the place was empty.

Ever sine her break up with Chase, Amber's death, Wilson's demise and House – being House, Cameron had started working more and trying to think less. It was harder to think about your own troubles when you were holding a woman's skull together and shouting orders.

But the last few 'good days' that she had had no longer meant anything. The drinks she had had with Foreman the other night, the shy smile and single daisy Chase had given her – a sign of forgiveness - had disappeared under the little boys smile, his death. Jacob's death.

Someone had been driving and on their cell phone. They had been too busy talking to see the red light and had crashed – causing the four car pile-up.

The little boy and his mother had been on the way to his football practice. She had worked on him for three hours before his little body had given out under the internal bleeding and the loss of blood.

She had showered away the blood, but she was unable to wash away the feeling she had. A six year old boy had just died a senseless death and she had been unable to do anything. There were bags under her eyes and her hair had been pulled back into a simple pony tail.

"You look like shit."

"Like you look any better." She didn't have to turn around to see Wilson standing there.

"I don't. But I probably look better then your right about now."

According to the hospital she and Wilson were in a competition to see who could log in the most hours.

According to her, they were running from ghosts and demons.

From their many late night talks she knew that he couldn't go home because he couldn't bear the reminder of Amber. She couldn't bear being alone and having time to think.

Wilson sat down and reached for her cup of coffee. Chats in the cafeteria at all hours were their specialty.

She didn't stop him. Let him find out for himself how gross it was.

"Allison" he gagged out seconds later "what the hell is this crap?"

"Well, I ordered coffee, so that's what it's supposed to be."

"I think that the cafeteria ladies mixed this up with some samples from the lab." He paused to consider. "Either that or they're planning your murder."

"Probably the latter." She joked. "For all the extra hours they have to stay when I'm here." Allison stood up and offered him an arm. "Coffee?"

Cameron had become a fill in for House. The two friends hadn't talked since Amber's death.

As soon as House was ready to leave the hospital he had taken a vacation and come back with only a word to Cuddy. Wilson was refusing to approach him first, and House seemed to be lost in his own world of depression and shenanigans with Cuddy.

Wilson and Cameron worked well together, though. They both had once loved House in their own way, and had lost the loves of their lives. Grief banded them into comradeship of sorts. There was a special club for the grief-striking pain the two felt.

No rules, only questions.

_When_ was it okay to let go? _How_ could you live without them? _What_ did you do when the grief overtook you? _Who_ could you call at two in the morning when you couldn't silence the sobs your body was making, but had no more tears left for your body to cry? _Where_ could you go so you didn't see their face in everything you did?_ Why _did they have to die?

There were no answers to the questions.

Sure, there were books that you could read, but Allison could have told everyone that they didn't help. Psychiatrist didn't help, neither did the ever so sympathetic friends, who pretended to know how you felt but went home very night thinking _thank God it was them and not me_.

The only thing that helped was someone who knew your pain as their own, who understood the fact you _didn't want to talk_ about _how great_ your loved one was and _how terrible_ it was that they had died. The grief was yours and yours alone. It was the only thing that was left of Amber. The only thing left of Raymond. Of Jacob.

The person who understood you was the person who didn't push themselves on you, but waited in the background until you were ready for help and friendship. They were the ones who could help you wander through grief and pain when being by yourself became to much.

"Pick your poison." Wilson replied, clasping her hand firmly as he stood.

"Don't worry, I know just the place."

* * *

Wilson drove, as was par for them, following Cameron's directions into a little hole in the wall honky-tonk diner.

He had never heard of the place, but Cameron seemed to be familiar with it.

The place was dark, and the tables were forever scarred with graffiti.

There was an old jukebox, some paintings on the walls and beer on tab. The booths looked comfortable and the place gave off a cozy feel. All in all it was a nice place. A place House would never visit.

"New place you found?"

Cameron grinned at him. "Keep a secret?"

"Always."

"This is -"

"Allison!"

An older woman rushed at them, embracing Cameron in a tight hug.

"Hi Alice."

"Let me look at you dearie. You're too thin, need to eat more. I'll fix you and your – _friend_ up with some food."

Allison rolled her eyes and grinned tiredly at the woman.

"Alice, James Wilson. Jimmy, this is Alice Drew." The woman hugged Wilson as well, and Wilson froze a little shell shocked.

"Sit down, sit down! We're not very busy always slow on Wednesdays. How do you take your coffee James?"

"Umm, black Mrs. Drew."

"It's Alice. I'll be back in a jiffy."

She disappeared and Allison chuckled softly.

"Do you get that reaction every time you visit?"

"I haven't been in for awhile. C'mon." She lead him to the back corner booth that had been dubbed 'hers' a long time ago and settled in, curling a foot underneath her body and leaning back with a sigh.

"So what was your secret?"

"Alice – Alice is Jacob's aunt."

Wilson nodded. He knew about Jacob.

"Is that why you don't come here often?"

"Why? Because they're related?" Wilson nodded. "Sometimes it hurts and sometimes it makes me feel better."

"Like after today."

"Yes." Allison nodded grimly and grabbed a few crèmes, making a pyramid with them. "The little boy I treated today could have been his twin twenty years ago and there I was, trying to save him. And I couldn't."

Wilson reached out to clasp her hand and was surprised when two steaming mugs of coffee were placed down on the table as well as a plate stacked with nachos, cheese, beef, olives, jalapeño peppers, guacamole and sour cream.

"Alice…" Cameron groaned out.

"Eat." She took out a deck of cards from her apron pocket and tossed it on the table. From another pocket she pulled out a small jar and handed it to her.

"Play. Tell me if you need to get wasted and I'll help with that too as long as you let me drive you home."

She disappeared and Allison shrugged her shoulders, grabbed a nacho, took a sip of her coffee and spilling the jar – which turned out to be full of spare change on the table.

"Poker?"

Wilson nodded. "I'm game if you are."

"Don't worry. I'll kick your ass."

"Good luck."

"I don't need it." Only after she dealt the cards did she meet Jimmy's eyes.

"Loser does the others charts for a week?"

"You're on."

* * *

"Talk to him." Cuddy held Houses shoulders as she grinded against him.

"No." His hands on her hips were going to leave bruises - that he knew for sure. Her nails down his back last night made deep gouges that bled briefly.

"Why not?"

"Why should I talk to him, while I could be riding you?"

"Because I could stop the sex so you could get back with your best friend."

"But you won't. You're too desperate. You're one of those women, who realizing that her mommy-clock is ticking and gets desperate. Of course, no one should have you as a mother. So really, I don't know why you're worried."

Cuddy stood up, eyes blazing.

"Screw you House."

"You're doing that well enough on your own."

Cuddy stormed out and House hobbled to get a beer, he wasn't worried. She'd be back, she always was.

* * *

So...?


	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks to MissongCanceledShows for betaing.**

* * *

**Chapter 2: You'll Never Walk Alone**

Wilson shook his head. "Remind me to never play cards with you again."

Cameron laughed. "When I was in foster care we would play poker all the time. Actually, any card game. Cards were cheap and easy to get. Harder to keep track of, but easier to hold onto then other things."

"So you got pretty good at cards?"

"It helped pay for college."

"No shit."

"Yeah. I got most of my books from poker games. And pool."

Her eyes were dancing, but her face was serious.

"Allison Cameron a hustler?"

"Yep. A kick ass one at that."

"I don't know."

Cameron shook her head mockingly. "You should know by now I'm not all sugar and spice and everything nice."

"Or nothing nice."

Cameron threw a nacho at him. They were on their second round of nachos, third round of coffee. Neither was up for getting drunk.

Plus, they had to work tomorrow. It would be easier to get wasted on Friday so they didn't come into work feeling like crap. That was something House would do.

"Take that back James Wilson!"

"Never."

"Al, you know the rules."

Allison stared at the second nacho she was holding – considering. With a sigh she set it back down.

"Rules?"

"I have to clean up the food I throw." She replied mournfully, looking like a kicked puppy.

"Poor baby."

"I know, right?"

Her pager vibrated on her hip and Allison looked down.

"You on call?"

"Yeah. I didn't think I'd get called in. Usually the bloody massacres are saved for Fridays." She stood up and grabbed her bag.

"Alice!"

"Yes dear?"

"I have to go, I'm on call. But Jimmy's going to stay some more. Put it on my tab?"

Alice laughed.

The 'tab' Alison referred to was non-existent and had been for as long as Alice had owned the restaurant.

"Sure. You call me, alright?"

"Yes'um."

Allison turned to Jimmy, and he stood up, ready to leave.

"Stay." She insisted. "At least for another drink. Alice will keep you company."

Before Wilson could reply Allison disappeared out the door and Alice was sliding across from him.

"Allie said that you just lost someone you loved. I'm very sorry.. According to her I'm a good listener. But if you don't want to talk about it, I understand."

"No actually." Wilson cupped his hands around his coffee. The words spilled out of his lips before he could stop himself.

"She could be a bitch, she really could. Her name was Amber, but my best friend called her Cut-Throat-Bitch. To everyone who didn't know her she was as cold as hell. It was all an act. Her childhood – her parents were rich, and she grew up with her nannies, who kept quitting or getting fired. Eventually she just figured it would be better not to feel anything at all. No one cared about her emotions anyway.

Amber – she had the most beautiful laugh. Ya'know, most people admire the way someone looks or how they act – but her laugh. When she laughed you could tell how happy she was. Her favorite color was pink, but she never told anyone that, because she thought that a pastel pink would make her sound soft. She loved to dance, and could make the best fajitas. She had a great sense of humor, but whenever she was talking to other people she was very sarcastic, very sly in getting her way.

The night that she died – she was going to pick up House." Wilson paused. Of course Allison probably had told Alice about House. "She was in the bus crash, and – well, it led to other things. She died three weeks, two days and six hours ago."

Wilson rested his head on the table, tears flowing freely.

"I never had just one steady girlfriend or wife before." He whispered. "But with Amber – she was just – _it_. I loved her more then I had loved anyone before and I don't know what to do know that she's gone."

Alice leaned over and placed her hand on top of Wilson's.

"I would tell you that I am very sorry for your loss James, but as you probably know those words don't mean a lot. My Jacob – well, you know that he was just a baby when he died. Allison lost Jacob and then years later she lost Raymond. I'll tell you what I used to tell her. You may feel like you're all alone in the world, and no one feels your pain. But someone will always be with you. Be it in spirit or physically. And Amber will always be in your heart."

"But what if she's not?"

"Cliché as it is James, it was probably better to have loved her and lost her then to have loved no one and wandered through life looking for someone to fill the empty spot in your heart."

"It's empty again."

"No, it's not."

"Yes it is."

"You have memories of her, don't you? You have Allison who understands your grief as her own. You have new understanding in the world and acceptance."

"Not a lot to replace Amber."

"Who said that it was supposed to replace her James?" Wilson propped his chin up on his hands and watched as Alice stood for a moment and came back with the coffee pot, refilling his coffee and getting herself one.

"It's not supposed to replace her?"

"Nothing is ever going to replace her. There's a spot in your heart for her. Other people can only fill that hole somewhat. You loved her James, as simple as that. Nothing is going to make you stop loving her."

* * *

One Week later

"_AJ! AJ! Wake up." Cold hands shaking her body. "He's home."_

"_Don't worry." A knot formed in the pit of her stomach. "I'll take care of you Jake." Allison lifted the blankets a little and allowed her six year old foster brother to slip under the covers and curl against her._

"_Just close your eyes. I'm here." She took a deep breath and scooted lower until her mouth was right next to his ear._

"_Hey, Jake, don't make it bad  
Take a sad song and make it better  
__Remember to let her into your heart  
Then you can start to make it better_

_Hey Jake don't be afraid  
__You were made to go out and get her  
__The minute you let her under your skin  
Then you begin to make it better_

_And any time you feel pain, hey Jake, refrain  
__Don't carry the world upon your shou-"_

"_Jacob! Where are you! Allison get you little ass down here and bring Jacob with you." The drunken slamming of doors sounded and Jake whimpered._

"_Give it a minute; he'll probably pass out soon."_

"_Allison, when I said to get down here I meant now!"_

_Allison slipped out of the bed, and picked Jake up._

"_Remember; don't let him see you cry." A minute later she appeared at the top of the stairs. "We're right here sir."_

"_Get down here." She took the steps slow and careful, Jake hiding in her shoulder._

"_When I tell you to get down here, you get down here." Allison could see Linda standing behind her husband, sporting a split lip and a cheek reddened in the shape of a hand._

"_Just leave them alone for tonight." She pleaded._

"_I'm teaching Allison a lesson on manners. Put Jacob down." _

"_Don't worry Jake; I won't let him hurt you." Gently she set him down on his feet and walked over to Ron, standing in front of him on trembling legs._

"_You were slow getting down here."_

"_I'm sorry."_

"_No you're not. And you need to learn your lesson." Allison nodded, wondering what it would be that time. A beating maybe. She had gone without food before, slept outside, been put in an ice bath, had her hands held over a stove._

"_Jacob, come over here." He glanced at Alison and at her nod, scampered over to Ron._

_It didn't even occur to her to be frightened when he pulled the Glock out of his pocket. The countless times he had threatened her and Jacob with it in the past two years made her almost immune to fear. She was more afraid of him then the cold, hard, metal._

_The first shot splattered blood all over her night gown as she stumbled towards Jake, trying to save him from the bullet that embedded itself in his arm. The second shot hit the frame across the room. The third shot was steadier and went into Jacob's chest. It cut his cries off almost immediately, but another two went into his body and the sixth shot went into the ceiling. Seven was aimed at Linda, and eight went into Allison's leg as she fell and she watched with detached shock as the ninth bullet went into Linda's back as she turned to run and the tenth went into Ron's skull._

_She only had enough energy to drag herself over to cradle Jacob in her arms. _

_Although she didn't know it, the police would be there soon, swarming around a small ten year old girl covered in blood with a bullet in her thigh, as she rocked a dead boy, sobbing and singing 'Hey Jude' repeatedly._

Allison woke up to the sound of her hoarse voice screaming. A muffled sob made its way out of her throat and she pulled her knees to her chest.

Jacob was still haunting her dreams and there was nothing that she could do to stop it. Her fingers itched and the phone was in her hand, Wilson's cell phone ringing before she really thought that idea out. At least it was Saturday.

"Wilson." The voice was thick with sleep and Allison winced, wishing that at least one person would get a good rest.

"Jimmy, its Allison."

"Can't sleep still?"

"Nope."

"Alice's in fifteen?"

"See you then."

She disconnected the phone and pulled on some jeans, twisting her hair up into a loose bun. Her thigh protested and Cameron rubbed the scar that was a reminder of that fateful night.

It was barely noticeable, and hadn't caused her pain in years, except for the occasional moment where psychological effects set in. The days after the shooting though – she might have been able to give House a run for his money.

Foster care had not been very kind to Allison. Her mother had given her up for adoption – she had been seventeen years old and not ready for a baby.

For the first six years of her life, she was okay.

Sundays in a scratchy dress and shiny black shoes with _Jesus loves me, this I know, for the bible tells me so _spilling from her lips in front of the congregation.

But due to some technical glitch, the Henderson's hadn't been able to adopt her. And with their goodbyes, God had disappeared too.

Back in the system, a year and various foster homes later she had met and fallen in love with baby Jacob. He was colicky. Cried too much, ate too much, ran around like a little hellion at two years old. They were the best couple around.

With Allison, Jacob wore his shoes and ate at the table. He kept his hair combed. And once again she was at church, _little ones to Him belong; they are weak but He is strong _pulled from her mouth.

Jacob and Allison were too much, and it was back to foster care. They were inseparable. A few more foster homes, a few more years, some Temples, some churches and Ron and Linda were found.

_The children sing,  
The children dream,_

Linda was a woman who had been born to be a mother but hadn't been graced with children.

Ron was not, nor should he ever have been a father.

_And their tears may fall but we'll hear them call  
And another song will rise_

Abusive from day one until the end two years later, Allison wondered how Ron had passed the foster care inspection.

But as she had always known, there were the lucky ones and then there were the ones who slipped through the cracks. She and Jacob hadn't slipped through the cracks, they had fallen, and fallen hard.

Jacob's funeral had been held on a clear day, the sun shining brightly.

_Jesus loves me! He will stay  
__Close beside me all the way.  
__Thou hast bled and died for me,  
__I will henceforth live for Thee._

Allison had sobbed so hard she had hyperventilated. And the next day a badass had been born.

It had been pretty impossible to place her in any home. Finally, she had been sent to a couple that had never fostered before, but had wanted another child.

Heather and Ross Cameron were in their early thirties when they agreed to foster thirteen year old Allison Jane. Their three children Brandon (8), Nicole (6), and Theodore (3) had welcomed the blue-haired teenager with open arms. The whole extended family had accepted her, and that was that.

Two years later Fifteen year old Ian had joined their family.

They were a slightly dysfunctional family, but it worked. They had taken her in - taken her in, and loved her like very few people had.

The Cameron's were Jewish, so there was no more church for Allison to go to.

Not that she would have gone all that easily anyway. God no longer had a place in her life. There was Temple to go to, but she accepted it as one of those things that you did for other people.

The music was comforting though. She liked the way the Hebrew rolled off of her tongue, not really meaning anything to her, but sounding like a prayer on its own.

She beat Wilson to Alice's by twenty minutes, and let herself into the place. It wasn't due to open for another two hours.

A cup of coffee rested in her hands, and she didn't realize she was singing until another voice joined hers.

"Y'hay sh'lama raba meen sh'maya y'cha-yim aleynu v'al kol Yiserial ve'imru amen

O'she shalom beem-romav, hoo ya'ah-seh shalom aleynu v'al kol Yisrael, ve'imru amen"

Wilson stared at her and Cameron just shrugged her shoulders.

_May there be peace and life for all of us and for Israel. Let us say, Amen.  
__Let He who makes peace in the heavens, grant peace to all of us and to all Israel. Let us say, Amen._

"You never told me you were Jewish."

"I'm not." Allison grabbed another cup and poured some coffee into it before handing it to Jimmy and sitting back down. "My parents are Jewish. I never had a Bat Mitzvah because I was over thirteen, and I didn't want one when they adopted me. But I know the prayers, light the candles, and on occasion will go to temple to make them happy."

"Not a believer?"

"I used to be. And then life happened."

"Life always happens. It's called living."

"There was a time I didn't do that." Allison pointed out. "There were a few days you lived in a daze too."

"I probably still would be. It's good to have someone with you who understands you."

"It is."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Nope." They continued drinking their coffee in silence.

The thing about friends like them was that you didn't need words to explain your pain.

* * *

_Songs:_

_Hey Jude – The Beatles_

_Jesus Loves Me_

_Not By Might, Not By Power – Debbie Friedman_

_Mourners Kaddish_


	3. Chapter 3

Thanks to MissingCanceledShows for betaing

* * *

**Chapter 3: Watching, Waiting, Wondering**

House hobbled down to the cafeteria at 11:30 on the dot. He wasn't one for being on time, but this was important.

At 11:45 Cameron and Wilson walked in talking and laughing.

According to hospital grapevine - which was wrong most of the time, (he started half those rumors he knew they weren't true) Cameron and Wilson were friends.

Cameron and Wilson, in his opinion, were, if anything, fuck buddies. Not friends, not buddies, not even after-sex-lets-have-a-drink type of people. They were like him and Cuddy. Only as far as he knew Cameron wasn't trying to get pregnant.

Wilson needed someone to hang onto and Cameron ate needy for breakfast. They were the little lost puppies she brought home with her and loved.

Wilson paid for Cameron's chicken sandwich and House took a bite of his Reuben.

One good thing about being with Cuddy: She had gotten the cafeteria ladies to stop putting pickles on his food.

* * *

"Does it bother you that he's staring at us?"

"Not really." Wilson shrugged. "I mean, it's been almost a week. Aren't you used to it by now?"

"Yes, but it's still a little creepy."

"Just ignore it."

"I am" Cameron assured him. "I just wish that he would either leave us alone or have the courage to come over here and ask us what's going on."

"Well rumor is that we're sleeping together and finding comfort in each other."

"Really? Last I heard I was sleeping with you to stick it to House good."

"I heard that you were sleeping with me and becoming my replacement House."

"Jimmy, I hate to break it to you, but it wouldn't have surprised any of the hospital staff if you and he came out as a couple. If they think I'm your replacement House they think we're in a relationship."

Wilson stared at her for a full minute his mouth dangling open.

"Don't tell me that shocks you. You go through wives and girlfriends like candy and he has relationship issues, and you're his only friend. And you put up with him."

He shrugged. "I guess I never thought of it like that."

"He's still watching us." Cameron mused. "If he keeps this up I'm going to go over and say something obnoxious to him."

"I have a better idea." Wilson's eyes were dancing. "Want to give everyone something to talk about?"

"Aren't they already talking?"

"But them talking won't piss House off."

"Jimmy-" Her voice was hesitant. Amber was barely gone – but it wasn't her place to argue with what he was ready or not ready to do. Plus, the whole hospital already thought they were together. What did it matter?

Cameron shook her head. "All right. Something to talk about."

He moved over to her side of the table and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. Cameron reciprocated with her head resting against him.

"Is he still watching?"

"Yep."

Wilson leaned down and kissed her forehead. House looked up and met her eyes. She waved.

Wilson laughed as House stood up and strode off, bumping into an intern and making him burst into tears on his way out.

"Well, that was interesting."

* * *

"I'm sorry Lisa."

"But – but -"

"You're not pregnant honey." Her best friend of twelve years shook her head. "I ran and reran the test three times." She sighed. "You should look into IVF."

_House won't go for artificial insemination though. The only reason he agreed is because he can have sex with me._

"Babe, it's not the end of the world."

"Yes it is. I'm – seeing a guy Beth."

"And what do you mean by seeing." Beth sighed and sat down to stare at her friend.

"We have sex, and every once and a while we go out for drinks." Lisa admitted.

"Casual sex?"

"He agreed to help me get pregnant for the sex. He probably won't go for IVF."

"Lisa! What were you thinking? There are sperm banks you could go to." She paused when Lisa looked down.

"You're getting attached, aren't you? This isn't about the baby or the sex. You like him."

"No!" Beth stared at her friend until she glanced down and knotted her hands together. "I can't have him Beth, it doesn't matter."

"You can have anyone you want, you're Lisa Cuddy and you kick ass."

"Beth-"

"No. you listen to me. You're not a quitter, remember?"

"I don't know-"

"Be the Lisa Cuddy I know you are. If you like him babe, you have to fight for him."

"It's been a rough few weeks at the hospital Beth."

"All the more reason to be strong and fight for him."

Lisa shot a teary eyed smile at her friend. "I'll think about it."

* * *

"So tell me, how exactly did you meet Alice?" They were back at the restaurant – this time for lunch on Thursday.

"What do you mean?"

"You told me that Alice was Jacob's aunt but-" James paused. "We don't have to talk about it if you don't want to."

"No." Allison shook her head. "You just caught me by surprise is all."

She took a sip of her coffee and leaned back.

"I met Jacob when he was two. He'd been in foster care for seven months. His mom became addicted to heroin shortly after he was born, and eventually DCFS took him away. Alice learned of her sisters' child when she died. She was determined to get him and adopt him. She contacted DCFS, and they eventually sent her to our social worker. By the time she had gotten through all the tape surrounding even just a visit with Jacob, he was dead. The only visit she ever got with him was at his funeral."

There was a harsh laugh followed by a soft sigh.

"It's funny how many hoops Alice had to jump through while we were living with the devil incarnated. I met Alice a Jacob's funeral. Had a panic attack when everyone had to go up and leave a rose on his coffin. I didn't want to go near it. Alice calmed me down, and about a year later she found me again and we started keeping in touch. I couldn't live with her, because there was no way that she could have controlled me back then, and she treated me more like a younger sister then a daughter, which was what I needed. I didn't want to be babied. For a while we lost contact, and then when I was adopted by the Cameron's I told them about Alice. And about Jacob. They found her for me."

"And the rest, as they say, is history." Alice's voice started James, who looked up. She was holding two plates which she set down on the table with a smile.

"Really?"

"Of course. I came over for a visit and was immediately taken in by this little girl with her too big dark clothes with chains and bright blue hair and fake nose ring."

Allison laughed and buried her head in her hands.

"Don't remind me."

"Blue hair?" James repeated in disbelieve.

"And pink, red, green, orange, silver, black. Did I forget anything?"

"Purple." Allison said wistfully. "That was a fun color."

"_Fun?_"

"Really James? What's more fun then purple hair?" Allison replied playfully. "I was a demon child and one of the few things I could control – I couldn't blare music, couldn't paint my room, could barely hang things on the walls – I found an outlet for my artistic thoughts."

"I won't argue with you. Just eat your cheeseburger." Alice disappeared as another patron waved her over.

"Grease on a bun!" Allison cheered, picking up the bun and taking a bite.

"Grease on a bun?"

"That's what I call it." The burger was, James realized, dripping grease. It looked disgusting.

"Take a bite." She encouraged. "Trust me on this."

James did and stared at her in surprise. It was good, he would give her that, but it wasn't something he had ever seen her eat before.

Food in the cafeteria was usually salads or sandwiches. Something light and healthy. The cheeseburger he was holding was definitively neither of those.

"Everyone always harasses me about my eating habits. I'm just used to home cooked meals of matzo ball soup, gefilte fish, latkes, falafels. Or having burgers from Alice's."

"Spoiled."

"I am." She acknowledged with a grin.

"And guess what? I don't care. I used to make dinner for myself all the time when I was younger. And for Jacob. One of Ron's punishments was not feeding us, so there were days I would go without food or just be eating bread and drinking water. The Cameron's wouldn't let me in the kitchen to make dinner for everyone unless someone helped and someone else did clean up. Basically for everything I did for the family, someone had to help me. If I made dinner they thanked me. When I did the laundry Mom gave me money. At first I thought they were insane and ridiculous. Or maybe a little crazy. I never got paid for doing what was expected of me before."

"What you do with the money?"

"I saved it."

"For what?"

"The first seven months I was pretty sure that they were going to send me back and stop fostering me. And I was done with the system. If I went back I was running away."

"Where would you have gone?"

"I just wanted to get out. When you have to run, you run. There wasn't a set goal in mind. I've always wanted to go to Iceland. Just because of the contradiction. Still haven't been. What about you?"

The change of topic surprised James.

"What?"

"Where have you never been that you've always wanted to go?"

"Peru."

"Peru?" Allison asked voice slightly skeptical.

"When I was in high school we were forced to do a three month project on a place that the teacher picked for us. Mine was Peru. Three months of learning about the place you think I'd never want to go, but I do."

* * *

House and Cuddy were in Cuddy's house this time. No matter how many times Cuddy walked out on him or House told her they were done, it never happened.

They needed the little comfort that came with sex.

Today House had shown up tipsy and high on Vicodin.

It burned Cuddy a little because she knew the reason he was drunk.

Wilson and Cameron were 'something'. No one knew what really. The hospital grapevine had called them friends, but apparently they had put on a little display in the cafeteria.

No one was sure if it was real or if they were trying to stick it to House.

It really didn't matter right now though because it just meant that they got to have sex more. And right now that was all she was going to get from House.

That would change though, she was positive.

* * *

This time it was Wilson who called her at an odd hour in the morning, his voice hoarse.

"Coffee?"

"No. I just – I just needed to make sure-"

"That someone was still there." She finished quietly.

"Yeah." The relief was evident in his voice.

"Right after Jacob died I used to wander around and make sure everyone in my house was still breathing. Every time I saw a gun I looked for the nearest escape route. Ross used to hunt every once and a blue moon when his friends would call him up. I made him stop going because I was afraid that he would get shot. And I couldn't handle that. So instead every time one of his friends called and invited him hunting he would take me and Ian to a hockey game."

"Ian?"

"Foster brother. He was adopted too. He's my big over protective obnoxious brother by two months, three days and four hours. Are you sure you don't want me to come over?"

"No." Wilson admitted freely. "But I'm going to have to eventually deal with this by myself, right?"

"Wrong. I'll be over in twenty minutes."

The dial tone greeted Wilson's ear before he could protest.

* * *

There are ways to deal with losing someone you love.

Holding onto a pillow that smells like them, wearing an old shirt of theirs, sleeping with the lights on bright because there is less of a chance of falling into a heavy sleep and dreaming of happier times that will force you to wake up crying.

There are nights when the only thing to do is go out to strip clubs or call services that House used regularly. Every person that passed on the street with the same hair or a shirt that had been worn before by a loved one was examined closely, looking for a sign of recognition, a realization that there was a mistake identity. Because they _couldn't _be dead. They were loved them too much.

It was when the realization finally hits that you suffered the worst.

The stages of death and dying as by Elizabeth Kubler-Ross were different then the ones Allison experienced.

She didn't live through denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance.

There is no set standard for grief. Grief was characterized by various stages to help people understand it, Grief was classified and made to seem simple and not messy so people knew what to expect. If someone lashed out, they were at the anger stage and really meant nothing by it at all. Death was wrapped up and presented in pretty flowers and hugs of sympathy. _That _wasn't what people needed, they needed love and understanding. Someone to say _I know what you're going through, but it will get better. And because it happened to me, I know I'm right._

Wilson had accepted death by the time that it knocked on his door. And fallen into a small depression. Dealing with death every day did that to you. It made you numb to everyone's pain. Even your own.

Comforting people through death was almost three quarters of Wilson's job.

Allison had gone through stages:

Acceptance. Anger. Anger. More Anger. Depression. Anger.

That was about it. The tears hadn't come for years. There had been tears at the funeral, tears as she held his still body. She had wandered around numb for awhile after that. And then once, everything had come crashing down and hit her.

With Wilson, he had found acceptance. The stages of grief he had hit at different times while Amber was still alive and fighting as well. Any anger he had felt had been directed at House.

Using the key that she had been given weeks ago Cameron opened the door and stepped into Wilson's apartment.


	4. Chapter 4

Thanks to MissingCanceledShows for betaing. There are some time jumps here, and I hope they make sense.

Jess

* * *

**Chapter 4: Time**

They had been going to Alice's for coffee for almost three months when it happened.

As per usual Wednesday night traditions, the jukebox was blasting Marvin Gaye's _Ain't No Mountain High Enough_, and later on other sixties music, letting Allison and Jimmy dance around like fools as they helped clean up the restaurant.

Alice had taken to closing at about ten on the weekdays. If people were there Monday through Thursday she would usually stay open for another hour.

The bell jangled, but neither looked up as Wilson spun Cameron in a circle, allowing her to pause and catch her breath as they laughed.

The other patrons were used to the dancing, singing and laughter and often called out song requests to the two or every once and a while got up and joined in a dance or two. Two weeks ago an older woman and her husband had taught them the jitterbug.

"Looking to quit the hospital and start a dance group?"

Dr. Cuddy's voice was dry and both immediately straightened.

"Yes, they are." Alice stepped out of the kitchen. "Do you have a problem with that?"

The song changed, and Allison chanced a glance at Jimmy. He was staring at House and Cuddy, slightly shocked, angry, and maybe even a little disgusted.

_Walk Like a Man _was blaring and Wilson shook his head once before grabbing her hand.

"Coffee?" Alice asked the two of them and they nodded, disappearing back into their both.

House was watching them and it was freaking Cameron out.

He did it enough at the hospital.

He wasn't part of her life anymore, and she really wished he would stop staring at her.

* * *

It had been Cuddy's idea to go out and get some coffee. And since he was fucking her, and the hospital coffee sucked, he had agreed.

Plus, he didn't want to publicly break up at the hospital. Even he wasn't that cruel.

They had walked into some little diner that he had never seen or heard of to find Cameron and Wilson dancing around and laughing like it was normal for them.

The woman who had asked about the dance group walked over to where they were sitting.

"What can I get you?" She didn't look happy to see them and House wondered if that had something to do with the fact that she had called Cameron and Wilson by their first names when she went over to give them coffee.

"Two coffees, one black and one with sugar."

"Lots of sugar." House repeated, his eyes never leaving the other table.

"Leave them alone. They already have enough to deal with." Alice commented quietly, following his gaze.

"And who are you to tell me what I should and shouldn't do?"

"I'm the one who spent three months talking to Jimmy and almost twenty years with Allison. I'm the one who watches them sew each other back together after they break. Leave them in their peace. The coffees will be up in a minute."

* * *

"Ignore them."

"Because that's easy to do." Wilson grumbled.

Cameron sighed and stood up. She grabbed Wilson's hand and pulled him up and into her side of the booth.

"There. Now you can't see them watching us."

"I can _feel_ them watching us."

It was true. House was practically drilling holes into the back of their heads, while Cuddy was just casually staring at them.

"So can I. But we were here first and I'm not leaving Alice's because they decided they wanted coffee. Hell, if we feel like it we can even go back to our dancing."

"You would?"

"Why not? It's not like either of them will come up to me tomorrow and tell me I should try out for _So You Think You Can Dance? _What's Cuddy going to do? Or House?" she dropped the pitch of her voice to imitate Houses'.

"Cameron, I saw your dance moves last night. Were you ever a stripper?"

It had the desired effect and Wilson laughed, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and giving her a brief hug.

"And what would you say to that?"

Cameron laughed. "That's for me to know. And you to never find out."

* * *

The coffee had been good and House wondered where Alice got her secrets. If Jimmy and Cameron weren't there he would have had more.

As it was, he couldn't break up with Cuddy there. It felt too weird.

It would have been like he was breaking up with Cuddles for Wilson and Cameron. And he wasn't. He was just sick of having sex with her. It was boring.

He didn't break up with her though, and they continued to have no-strings-attached-sex for another two months. It was around that time that she had dropped a bombshell on him though. One he hadn't been expecting.

"_I'm breaking up with you House."_

"_Can you break up with me if we're not in a real relationship?"_

"_I met this guy and he's really sweet."_

"_That's great." House's tone was deadpan. He couldn't help but not feel any emotion. Because, really, he didn't care. He was just there for the sex. Lisa and him had partially grown up together, but he only thought of her as a friend, nothing more. And here he was helping a friend – so what if he had reaped in the benefits a little?_

Cuddy had told Beth that she wanted Houses' baby, and it wasn't until a week later when she met Daryl at a bar after a fight with House that she had a realization.

She didn't want House. She wanted the idea of House.

For most people the idea of House was a bad one, but to her the idea of a man like him – the one she remembered from college – was a perfect candidate for the father of her baby. Now though, she thought that she had found someone else. Someone that she might even possible eventually love.

"_So, are we done then?"_

"_Yes." Cuddy hesitated and then placed a hand on his arm. "I'm really sor-"_

"_No. Stop. It was fun while it lasted, but we're done."_

_Without another word House had walked away leaving Cuddy slightly startled. She thought that House would have at the least wanted to stay for some alcohol._

_Cuddy shook her head and pulled out her cell phone to call Daryl. She could talk to House tomorrow._

* * *

"I have a favor to ask you."

"Spill."

"My cousin Christina is in town for the week."

"And-?"

"Would it be okay if she came out with us on Wednesday for coffee?"

After four and a half months the two tried to keep with a Wednesday coffee date after work every night, including various nights of hanging out and goofing around.

"Of course. Is she just visiting?"

"Job interview with Princeton. She's a literature professor."

"That's cool."

"Yeah. I really hope she gets it. She's three years older then me and was one of the first people that I was introduced to when the Cameron's started fostering me. We hit it off right away. She's a bit of a free spirit. It's great."

Wilson laughed.

"Then she'll fit right in."

"We had matching hair."

* * *

In what Alice later called 'True Cameron Form' Christina skidded into Alice's with an arm around Allison; laughing hysterically.

Tina, as Allison affectionately called her, had dark brown eyes that danced with laughter and shoulder length wavy brown hair that Allison had run her fingers through her lips pulled down in a frown.

"I can't believe you cut it."

"Yes you can."

"Can not."

"Blondie, get over it. I think the good people of Princeton University would have been upset I dyed it blue."

"Shut up. Tina, this is James Wilson, Jimmy my cousin Christina Schwartz."

"Nice to meet you." Tina grinned and offered a hand to shake.

"Nice to meet you too. Al said that you were in town for an interview, staying long?"

"Nope. Just long enough to impose on Blondie for a few days, drive her crazy, eat all of her food and get in one good sized food fight or bitch off."

Wilson snorted. "Bitch off?"

Tina nodded and turned to look at Allison, completely straight faced. "Bitch."

Allison shook her head and sighed. "Whore."

"Brat."

"Spoiled."

"Princess."

"Daddy's Girl."

"And they continue from there." Alice commented, stopping both girls with a look. "It's good to see you again Tina."

"We need to get together more often Alice."

"I know babe."

"And you need to see Blondie more often. She needs to eat more." Tina poked a finger in her cousins' rib accusingly.

The nickname had been coined years ago, back when the Cameron's had started fostering her. Her blue hair grown out a few months with them, and they had been surprised that even at fifteen she kept the light blonde – almost platinum – wispy, soft baby locks. It wasn't until her twenties that Allison's hair had started thickening and turning darker.

"You're no fun."

"I know. But you love me anyway."

"What's love got to do with it?"

Tina shook her head and turned to Wilson, who was watching them with amusement.

"Do you see what I have to put up with? And the singing? And the mocking?" They seemed to be rhetorical questions because she continued without missing a beat. "You work with Blondie, right?"

Cameron shook her head at her cousin and began to eat the burger that Alice had set down in front of her, just the way she liked it.

Wilson and Tina were talking animatedly and it made her happy to see Wilson smiling at someone who wasn't her, Alice, or a patient.

* * *

"Go ask her for her number."

"No."

"James."

"It's too soon."

"It's been six months. And I'm going to pull an _I'm wiser_ moment on you. The pain doesn't go away. Sometimes you don't think that it will ever get better. Ask her for her number and a cup of coffee at Alice's. Go home tonight and have nightmares, and call me at all hours in the morning because you forgot the way her eyes crinkled when she laughed and how much she enjoyed mocking people. It doesn't go away Jimmy, but it has to get better eventually."

"How long before you dated after Raymond?"

Her jaw jutted out and there was a bit of a frown in her eyes. "You know how long. I threw myself into school. And you know I didn't like people on a principle anyway. Alice was the one to get me to start dating again. To go out and have a little bit of fun."

"Alice went out with you?"

"No. She got Tina and Ian to take me out." Allison smiled at the memory. "Tina would point out a guy and Ian would immediately shoot her down because he didn't trust anyone with me. I got mad, stormed off and called Mom to come and get me because we all rode in together. She told me that I needed to enjoy myself. To forget about Ian and Tina and to put Raymond at the back of my mind, because I would never really forget him. So I went out dancing with some friends the next night. Some guy bought me a drink, and gave me his number. I never called him because I wasn't ready, but it was a step in the right direction. So, shoo fly."

Wilson sighed and sat back, looking her in the eye. "I thought that we were a couple Allison."

"A mock relationship to spread rumors and piss off your not so bestest buddy doesn't count as a relationship."

"And what do I get for going over there?"

"My ultimate respect and admiration." She paused to think. "Oh! And I'll stop harassing you about it."

"And you buy the drinks tonight."

Cameron and Wilson shook on it and Wilson went off to talk to the woman sitting at the bar.

Twenty minutes later he returned smiling, holding a napkin.

Cameron gave him a standing ovation as Wilson shook his head at her.

"It doesn't matter if you don't call her. Well - actually, it matters to her. But at least you know that you can still smile and talk to someone who isn't me."

"I talked to Tina when she was here."

"She doesn't count, because she's related to me."

"Really?"

"Those are the rules. You talked to Alice too and Alice doesn't count either."

"Okay Al. Now you owe me another round of drinks for listening to your insane ideas."

"Whatever you say."

* * *

"I need you to talk to House."

Cameron choked on the sip of water she had just taken and it took a good smack on the back from Chase to keep her breathing.

Seven months after Amber's death and Chase and her were on good terms – hence the lunch in the cafeteria. They were trying to be friends, and were doing okay. House however, she had not spoken to in seven months.

"Excuse me?"

Cuddy stared at Chase, clearly wanting him to leave. Chase got the signal, and stood, picking his tray up, but Cameron grabbed his sleeve and yanked him right back down.

"Dr. Cameron-"

"Does this relate to hospital business?"

"It relates to the well-being of the hospital, yes."

"But it's not a job requirement." Cameron finished. "And that means that Dr. Chase can stay. You don't need to speak to me privately."

Cuddy stared at her for a full moment before she sat down across from her.

"I need you to talk to Dr. House because he is absolutely miserable. He also thinks that you and Dr. Wilson are sleeping together."

"Can I ask why that might matter?"

"Because he needs the two of you."

"Why? He was doing just fine with you before. So, why would House need us now?" Cameron stood up. "Excuse me Dr. Cuddy, I have to go."


	5. Chapter 5

Sorry. I was in the backwoods of Oregon for 16 days, and just finally got home. And then next week I may/may not be leaving again. Once school starts the updates should be more scheduled.

Jess

* * *

**Chapter 5: Needs**

"Because he _needs_ us." Cameron was still fuming three hours later and, stormed over to Wilson's office. If his door was closed that usually meant he was with a patient or in a meeting. If she could see the teddy bear that they had made at Build-A-Bear when Tina was in town, that meant she could barge in. If it wasn't there, the meeting was usually important.

"You'll never -" She opened the door and froze. Cuddy, was, it seemed, arguing intently with Wilson, her back to the door.

Wilson stood as soon as Cameron entered, and grabbed his briefcase, shoving various odds and ends into it. "Come on. I need some coffee."

"We're taking the rest of the day off." Cameron called out.

Cuddy sat down, defeated as the two strode out of the room. She could just hear there voices, low and angry.

"Did she want you to talk to him too?"

"Can you belie-?"

* * *

"What did you do?" it took House a half an hour to find her and storm into Wilson's office where she was still sitting.

"Nothing."

"You did something! The nurses are all talking about how Cameron lost it in the middle of the cafeteria and now she and Wilson are missing."

"They took the rest of the day off."

"Why?"

"I tried to get them to talk to you."

"What would possess you to do that?" The nurses' talk had made him curious, and a little angry. But now he was beyond anger. What would make Cuddy even _think_ of talking to Wilson? Wilson was off limits. A big _NO_. Even a two year old could understand that.

"You need him."

"I don't need anyone. Especially not Wilson or Cameron."

He stormed out leaving Cuddy alone once again.

* * *

"Is it wrong to get drunk when we should be working?"

"Yes." Wilson downed the tequila he was holding after considering Cameron's question.

"Hypocrite."

"That's okay though. We just took the rest of the day off."

"And, hey it's Friday."

"And five o'clock somewhere, right?" Alice's voice was teasing.

"Well, its 4:30, which I think is close enough to five o'clock here." Cameron pointed out.

"Do you ever close?" Wilson asked voice serious.

"Not for you two. Alice's is Always Accessible for Advice. Plus, Allie has a spare key."

"Very nice alliteration. Until the end. You need to work on that." Allison offered her the next shot of tequila and Alice shook her head.

"I have to work. Continue getting smashed please."

* * *

"I think you guys have had enough."

"One more song? Please?"

"Fine." Cameron had found, and dragged out the old karaoke machine that Alice kept in the back of the diner. Sundays and Tuesdays used to be karaoke nights, but they no longer were. There were only so many drunken, terrible singers that people could put up with.

The place was closed, and it was well past two in the morning. Alice had been watching them for the past two hours as they entertained themselves with song and dance.

"Oh! American Pie!"

Alice buried her head in her hands. The nine-minute song was _not _one to be performed by two very drunk people who had been doing renditions of everything from Grease Lightening to Stairway to Heaven. Who ever had made it into a karaoke song should've been found and killed.

"_So bye-bye, miss American pie,  
Drove my Chevy to the levee,  
But the levee was dry.  
And them good old boys were drinkin' whiskey and rye  
Singin' this'll be the day that I die.  
This'll be the day that I die."_

Nails on a chalkboard would have sounded better at that point. They were going to need coffee. And she was going to need a stiff drink after she got the two of them home.

* * *

"Ouch!" Cameron cracked up as she tripped over a – body part? and ended up on the floor next to the leg that was sticking out from the wall.

"Allie?"

"I'm okay." There was more hysterical laughter. "It's – it's just -"

Alice chuckled. She couldn't help it. "This is almost like the first time when you and Ian got drunk together."

"And you had to come get us. One tequila, two tequila, three tequila, floor."

"Tequila makes her clothes fall off." House grimaced as he popped a Vicodin and stood up.

"No it doesn't Mister. My clothes are staying right – _here_." As if to prove her point Cameron tugged on her shoe.

A look of confusion crossed her face as she looked from her shoe to her now bare foot to House.

"What are you doing here?"

"That's a good question. What are you doing here Dr. House?"

"I came to talk to Cameron, but she's obviously a little too wasted to think coherently."

Alice chanced a glance at Cameron who was now searching her purse for her keys.

"I have them hon."

"Ohh. I was afraid I gave them to James."

"No." Alice produced the keys from her pocket and opened the door.

"Jimmy-Boy is this drunk too, I suppose?"

"A little less, but yes he is pretty wasted." She turned her attention to Cameron. "Come on babe, in the apartment. You don't want to sleep outside."

"Okay." Cameron stood up on rubbery legs, and House rolled his eyes, grabbing her by the arm as she almost fell.

"She get this drunk often?"

"I haven't seen Allie this drunk in almost ten years. Haven't seen her kind of drunk since Ian's wedding five years ago. James and Allison drank enough today because they wanted to escape. They don't take what your Dr. Cuddy did lightly."

"She's not mine." House replied, watching as Alice guided Cameron into the apartment. "We broke up."

"So now she wants you to have friends? How nice."

"Thanks, I thought so too." House turned to leave.

"Dr. House, Allison isn't going to remember this in the morning. Stay for a minute, I'd like to talk to you."

House shrugged and limped into Cameron's apartment, sitting on the couch and propping his feet up. It wasn't like he had anything better to do, and maybe he could get some free coffee from the deal.

Alice made her way around the place, sending Cameron to change and disappearing into the kitchen to get water and then the bathroom for Tylenol.

Cameron reappeared from her bedroom, and House inhaled sharply. Either she had forgotten that he was there, didn't care, or was wearing what she usually wore to bed. A Bears jersey – and nothing else. It went down to about mid-thigh, and then there was just _leg_. Alice bustled out of the bathroom and handed Allison the water and pills.

"Take these and then get some sleep. If you come back out here put some pants on so you don't give Dr. House a heart attack. He can't help himself and you'd be too wasted to do anything remotely helpful. I have a feeling I'll be seeing you and Jimmy tomorrow for some coffee?"

"Mh-mmm."

"And I'll leave some of my hangover remedy."

"Icky." Allison wrinkled her nose. Then she shrugged, kissed Alice on the cheek and stumbled back into her bedroom, glass of water in hand.

* * *

It was a gross combination of food – tomato juice, vinegar, lemon, onions, sugar, celery, Tabasco sauce and salt and pepper.

House had limped from couch to a bar stool in the kitchen and was watching Alice as she mixed various things and finally put the whole mess in a container which she stored in the fridge.

"That's going to cure her hangover?"

"Strain it the next morning, eat it, and she'll be good to go." House grimaced. "Trust me, after all these years Allison knows better then to argue with my hang over remedies. They work. No matter how gross they taste."

"How long have you known her?"

Alice frowned. "I didn't bring you in here to talk about Allison and me."

He shrugged. "Well, will you talk about other people?"

"What?" Alice whirled to face him and House shrugged, holding up an old picture. Cameron was holding some little boy, the two sitting down and smiling, poised in nice clothes, eyes bright. It looked to be around Christmas time judging by the background. And Cameron couldn't have been more then seven or eight.

"They don't look alike, and the on back of the photo is _Jacob and Me, family 6-11, Waller._ The picture was face down, under the coffee table. Someone threw it. I can only guess that it was Cameron. And while the names and numbers mean nothing to me, they mean something to you."

"It's none of your business what any of that means Dr. House." Her eyes were dark and she had taken the picture from his grasp.

"No, no. it may not be mine, but it's yours." House was staring intently. "You have the same eyes as the kid in the picture. Is he yours? And if he is then why did you tell me that you've only known Cameron for twenty years? She doesn't look to be ten, so that means that you didn't have contact with the little boy."

"Leave Jacob out of this." Alice's voice was icy. "He was just a little boy."

Was. _Was_ a little boy. Meaning that he was gone. Dead most likely. If he had been a normal person, that would have been his cue to stop. Apologize maybe.

"What'd he die of?" If she had not yet known her son, he couldn't have been much older then he was in the picture when he died. That meant that it was probably nothing of his own accord. An accident, probably.

Alice placed the picture on the coffee table, and turned to look at him.

"I don't think that you deserve Allison. And you don't deserve James. They have been through hell. And neither you nor your Dr. Cuddy needs to increase the pain."

"_Pain_? You want to talk about _pain_?" Houses' voice was sharp. "Because I have been through more pain then the two of them could possibly experience."

Alice's back was stiff.

"That's where you're wrong Dr. House. Your leg – sure, that _hurts, _maybe you're even in agony. Although you probably take enough drugs for a _horse_ to not feel the pain. And yes, you have it as a daily reminder. But James wakes up every day knowing that the woman he loves is _dead_. And Al wakes up every day without her husband, without Jacob, and with memories that would have you screaming."

Alice's hands curled, a scowl on her face.

"And if you must know Dr. House, my _nephew_ was shot when he was six years old in one of his foster homes while Allison tried to protect him."

House stood alone in Cameron's kitchen, frowning, with more questions then ever.

* * *

It took nearly two hours for House to work up the courage to break in, and once the door was open it took almost another hour to convince himself to go in and sit on the couch.

He had swiped the Tupperware container from Cameron's apartment. Her hangover would be hell tomorrow, but Wilson might be into bargaining cures for information.

By the time it was ten House was sitting on the couch with his leg propped up, watching some Monster Truck show he had found.

"Allis-?"

When Wilson finally stumbled from his room at almost eleven his eyes clouded in confusion.

"What the _hell_ are you doing here?"

"I'm not Allison. I brought hang-over cure."

Wilson stalked to the fridge and pulled out a Tupperware almost identical to the one that was next to Houses' leg.

"Oh."

"Yeah, oh. If Allison finds out that you took her hangover remedy you are so dead." Wilson strained the concoction like Alice had mentioned and then ate it, grimacing.

House watched Wilson for a long moment. He didn't want to stare, but his friend looked different.

It wasn't as if he had died his hair or gotten a tattoo or become an alcoholic.

There was a darkness in Wilson's eyes that hadn't been there before. His shoulders were more hunched and a frown rested on his face while he watched House watching him.

"Why are you here anyway?"

"I was told that I needed more friends."

"And why would you need more friends when you have Cuddy?"

Wilson winced as the question escaped his lips. He shouldn't be sitting there asking House questions like it was normal. He should be kicking him out of the apartment.

"She found someone else. Some new guy to make babies with."

Wilson sighed and stood up before walking out of the kitchen. "Well then, I guess you should fight for her."

Allison was in his mind's eye, her voice quavering slightly when Wilson brought up the date.

"_He told me that I don't love. That I only need people because they're damaged. That I needed to fix people in my life because everything had to be perfect." _

_Her voice had been forlorn. _

"_When I had nightmares mom used to wake me up. And I would sob and sob and tell her how much I hated Ron. He had turned me into a mess of tears and bruises and nightmares. I didn't trust anyone because of him. He broke me. Broke my spirit. Damaged my heart. And she used to tell me that I wasn't damaged. I wasn't broken. He was the one who was broken, and didn't I see how wonderful I was? Nothing in my life was ever perfect James. You don't love someone because they're perfect. You love them in spite of the fact that they're not. So I don't know what he was expecting, but I wasn't planning on fixing anyone."_

"Who says I want her?"

"You were attempting to help her get pregnant."

"She's not pregnant. And she found some other guy to work her baby making powers on. I told you that already."

"Right. Well, you've told me before you have other friends. Go hang out with Karl from bookkeeping."

"His name is _Kevin_."

"House, get out."

Maybe if Wilson repeated it to himself enough times it would ring true. As much as he couldn't stand the man sitting on his couch, feet propped up casually, he missed him.

"Why?"

"What?"

"Didn't you miss me Jimmy? Why should I leave?"

"I didn't miss you House. I want you to leave."

Wilson emerged from his room dressed in casual weekend clothes. The phone began ringing and Wilson picked it up.

"I have your hangover cure, Allie."

He laughed at whatever _Allie_ said.

"Don't worry about it. Do you want me to come and get you or meet you at Alice's?"

"Okay. I'll bring the cure. Be outside your place in fifteen."

Wilson turned back to House, eyes cold. "When I needed a friend House, you were off in wherever-the-hell-you-felt-like-being, taking a vacation. Now that you're ready to let go of whatever _you_ were struggling with when my girlfriend _died _that's too bad. I don't need you nor do I want you here."

After grabbing the hang over cure from House, Wilson walked out of his apartment an angry scowl firmly in place.

House stood slowly. If Cameron hadn't been there when House was afraid to face Wilson they would be okay now. Sitting there and watching tv, cracking jokes, drinking beer. But _no _the bleeding heart, Miss-Fix-It Cameron had to go in and ruin everything.

House limped out of Wilson's apartment angrily. This was all _her_ fault.

* * *

American Pie - Don McLean

You don't love someone because they're perfect. You love them in spite of the fact they're not. – Jodi Picoult (cookies for whoever can name that book)

Quote from Love Hurts

www. rupissed. com /hangovercures. html


	6. Chapter 6

Extra long chapter and cookies for the long wait? Just to give everyone a concept of time, it's been about seven months since Amber died, and about two weeks before Christmas. Note to any of you who are impatient/ care. I just sent the nexy chapter off to my beta, so it should be coming along soonish, but both of us are still getting into the swing of school. Thank you MissingCanceledShows for betaing.

Jess

* * *

**Chapter 6: Lost That Loving Feeling and Song Bets**

By the time Monday rolled around, House's anger had simmered down – just barely. If Wilson was going to play wounded, then he could play wounded.

Who was he to care anyway?

It was only that his bank account was getting low from having to buy lunch.

Yeah, that was it. He didn't miss Wilson at all.

* * *

By the time Monday rolled around, Wilson's hurt had mostly faded to what it had once been – but just barely. If House was going to be an ass, then he was going to be an ass.

Who was he to care anyway?

It was only that he missed his best friend something desperate.

* * *

By the time Monday rolled around, Cameron's irritation had evaporated - mostly. If House was going to be House, he would be. So, House had stolen her hang-over cure. She had gotten it back and her headache was gone.

Who was she to care anyway?

It was only that she happened to be in love with the man.

* * *

By the time Monday rolled around, Cuddy's façade was back in place – just barely. If Wilson and Cameron were going to refuse her help with House, so be it.

Who was she to care anyway?

It was only that she couldn't bare the thought of Wilson and House not being friends again.

* * *

Monday dawned dull, rainy and dreary for four people.

The first pretty big rain storm had hit, and it brought a good amount of car accidents into the ER, as well as the usual assortment of everyday emergencies.

Cameron didn't have a chance to grab lunch, and when she finally had time to grab a break, she was a little woozy and pretty hungry.

A candy bar was chucked at her and Cameron turned to thank whoever had thrown it at her. It was food, wasn't it? Who cared if it had struck her in the shoulder.

"Oh."

"Yeah." House mocked. "Oh. It's me."

It didn't matter, because she was starving, so Cameron ripped open the Hershey bar and took a bite.

"Thanks."

"Not afraid that I poisoned it?"

"I'm surrounded by a bunch of doctors if you did, so it's all good. I'm more concerned about the fact that you're going to try to weasel your way into something."

House affected an air of innocence. "And why would that be?"

"Because you've only ever come down here when you need someone to irritate or need something. And seeing as the fact is that you haven't been here since Amber's death, but now after seeing James you're back down here, it means you want something."

"I want you to break off your friendship with _Wilson_." House emphasized his name with a frown. When in the world had Cameron started to refer to him by his first name?

"No." It was said around a mouthful of candy bar but the meaning was clear as was the glare that was forming. "I'm not breaking off my friendship with Wilson so you can come in on your white horse eight months later."

"Everything would be back to normal now if it weren't for you."

"I'm sorry that I offered to support my friend when he was going through a hard time. Sorry that his best deserted him when he needed him most and his girlfriend was dead."

Cameron took another bite of the candy bar and stormed off.

"Thanks for the food House, but we're done here."

That was when he made his decision. As soon as he broke got to Cameron she would help him with his relationship with Wilson. And then everything would be okay.

* * *

He started off subtle, just showing up in the ER every day like he had been before the accident.

She ignored him, of course, but every once and a while the nurses would force her to go talk to him to get rid of him, sometimes he would chuck a candy bar her way, with an insulting _I don't like seeing your bones if you're not a bloody mess, thank you, _or _I like my women to have bigger butts. _Used to the comments – having dealt with snark like that since she was a child – Cameron simply ignored him and continued to stitch up various body parts, set broken bones, or do paper work.

After another few weeks of that House was going to step it up and begin calling her when she wasn't at work. Eventually, he was sure, Cameron would cave.

* * *

"He's so irritating Alice. Comes to the ER almost every day and harasses me."

"What are you two, a bunch of ten year olds?"

"What?"

"It's like being on the playground. He pulls your hair so you kick him and then shoves you and before you know it the two of you are at it like cats and dogs."

"You and your metaphors Alice," Cameron snorted. "If you want to say something spit it out."

"He likes you." Alice sang out with a childish smirk on her face.

"Doesn't." Cameron responded immediately, setting down the dish she was washing to glare at Alice.

"Yes he does sweetheart." Alice continued to dry and put away the dishes a smile on her face. "He liked you at one point. And now he's doing something about his feelings."

"He hates me because I took Wilson away from him."

"Or he hates Wilson because he took you away from him."

"That's not true" Cameron protested. "Otherwise he would be harassing Wilson to try to get _me_ to forgive him or something ridiculous like that."

"But while he's harassing you, he's spending time with you. And if you eventually cave, he'll be spending a lot of time with you and Wilson. So on his part it's a win win situation. He gets the girl he wants and his best friend back." She shrugged. "I'm not saying he's not doing this to get James back in his life, in fact, I bet that's most of why he's harassing you. But I think he likes you too."

"Alice, you're giving me a headache."

Alice turned to look at her. "I'll leave you to think it all out for a few days AJ, but I'm going to bring it back up."

Allison sighed and nodded. Alice rarely ever called her AJ, although the rest of her family did, and it was her way of saying that she wasn't letting this go.

* * *

_…Plainsboro Teaching Hospital requests your presence at the Nassau Inn __10 Palmer Square__ to raise money for…_

_…a night full of dancing followed by a silent auction…_

_…white tie event…_

_… dinner will be provided…._

_…please R.S.V.P by…._

Cameron set down her mail with a grimace.

This fundraiser was the 'big one'. PPTH got almost half of their donations from this fundraiser, mostly from the silent auction. Christmas brought out the spirit of giving and all that jazz.

The fact that she didn't complain like House didn't mean that she enjoyed conferences or clinic duty or fundraisers. In fact, she basically despised them.

What was worse then dressing up, listen to crappy music and having men try to grab her ass, while at the same time keeping her composure and trying to raise money?

Nothing, really.

She needed to call Tina though, and get her to go shopping for a new dress. Might as well get something good out of the deal.

Her phone rang and she checked the caller ID before grinning.

"You got one too?"

"Of course." He adopted a formal tone. "Allison, will you go to this very important fundraiser as my date?"

She giggled into the phone. "Only if you take me out for real food afterwards and I get protection from ass-grabbers."

"Well, those are some steep stipulations Allison, but I guess that I can accommodate you."

"Thanks Jimmy, you're a dear."

"That's why you love me."

* * *

"FOR THE LAST TIME CUDDY I'M NOT GOING!" House turned to limp away and turned back at the last second. "AND NO, I WILL NOT SLEEP WITH YOU - AGAIN!"

Cuddy sighed and brushed her hair out of her face before chasing after House.

"You are going, if I have to show up at your house and drive you there myself."

"You wouldn't," House scoffed. "That's something you would need Wilson for, but seeing as my friend dumped me I don't have to go."

"Dumped you?" There was some amusement in her voice as Cuddy spoke. "I'm pretty sure you're the one who dumped him, House."

"I would never dump my boyfriend Cuddles, not even for you."

"No, you dumped him for yourself House, and none of us did anything to stop you." Cuddy turned on her heel. "I'll see you at the benefit or you'll be in the clinic every day doing rectal exams and dealing with all the overly-concerned mothers. And even if it takes time out of my schedule I'll be down there personally to watch you and make sure you're working."

House scowled as she walked away. "If you do that you'll have to wear a higher top Cuddles or the parents will call the cops for public indecency." She just flipped him the bird as she walked away.

He really missed when he was sleeping with her. None of that stuff was a problem.

* * *

"Wow."

"Jaw off the floor please Jimmy, we don't have time for me to pick it up and re-attach it." She paused to consider. "Although then we would have an excuse to not go, so please continue."

He chuckled and gave her another once over.

The dress was strapless with a bit of a plunging back, skin showing until just below her shoulder blades. The bottom was what Wilson would call 'fluffy' but was known as 'pick-up'. There was some light beading around the top that could just barely be seen. The dress was a dark chocolate color that complimented Cameron's skin. Her hair, which had grown back to it's more usually color of strawberry blonde with some light brown mixed in, was loose and flowing in gently waves.

It had been expensive, but worth it. Cameron pulled on a dress coat and smiled brightly at Wilson.

"I don't think I'm going to be able to keep my grubby man ass touching promise, but I'll keep as many as I can away from you." Wilson offered her his arm and Cameron accepted it with a smile and the slightest hint of a blush.

"Let's go."

* * *

She was singing quietly, The Beatles again. _Hey Jude_ had always been her favorite song – at least, it had been until Jake had died. She couldn't listen to it anymore. Even the first few bars gave her goose bumps, and tears would well up. _Yesterday_ became her Beatles song. A wistful _If Only..._

The benefit was long and boring, and Cameron escaped for a few minutes to catch her breath and rid herself of the grubby hands that had been lunging for her at various points in the evening, when Wilson wasn't with her sending off angry, _leave my friend alone _signals.

He had been pulled into a conversation with some girl and she had slipped away to give him some time to talk to her. Getting Wilson to interact the past few months had difficult, to say the least. Social interaction she would take, even if it meant a few ass-grabs.

She wandered out of the formal room and into the lobby, before taking the elevator up another level to the 'main floor'. It was the check in area, and behind a now closed door was a sitting room for the complementary breakfast and cocktails the place served. The sound of the piano was behind the door, and, curious, Cameron slipped inside.

Immediately, she wished she hadn't. House was sitting there, the music flowing from his fingers. She turned to leave, but his voice stopped her.

"I didn't know my playing was that bad that even Miss Nice couldn't stand it." He stopped and turned to look at her and Cameron looked down at the floor, scuffing her foot awkwardly.

House was relieved that he had seen her walk in earlier, even though she had walked in on Wilson's arm. Otherwise he really wouldn't be able to keep his jaw off the floor. And he had already done that once and embarrassed the hell out of himself.

"You're not – it's just – I – I didn't -"

House tried to hide his smirk. Even after almost five years of knowing Cameron he still managed to make her nervous and stutter.

"I bet I can guess your favorite song." The change of subject startled Cameron, but she couldn't help but smile.

"And if you do?"

"You talk to Jimmy Boy for me and put in a good word."

"And if you don't?"

"Then you can slander my name throughout the hospital."

"I'm pretty sure you've done enough of that yourself." Cameron shrugged. "But I'm bored and you won't guess my favorite song so go right ahead."

"How many tries do I get?"

"Five."

"Cock sure of yourself aren't you?" He snarked at her, but nodded. "Deal." House paused and began to play his fingers light on the keys. "I've always taken you for a fan of older music," he mused. "None of the crap that they play on the radio now." He hesitated and then Billy Joel flowed out of the piano, the familiar notes of 'Piano Man' drifting into the air.

"I do love Billy Joel" Cameron admitted easily, "but Piano Man isn't my favorite."

"Frankie Valli fan?" House switched tunes quickly and began to play Who Loves You.

"And The Four Seasons. But still no. Guess number three. Getting worried?"

"Nope. The Beatles?" He started playing Blackbird and then changed songs after a second of thought. Hey Jude began to play and the goose bumps rose on her skin immediately. Tears were beginning to prick her eyes.

"No." She choked out. "Not my favorite."

House turned his head slightly to stare at her. "It looks like it might be your favorite. You're getting all girly and emotional over it."

"It's not my favorite." If he didn't stop playing soon she really was going to start crying.

House had stopped to her great relief and was staring at her, now starting to look slightly concerned.

"Concrete Angel, Martina McBride." She managed before dashing out of the room as fast as her three inch heels could carry her.

* * *

"Woah Allie, where's the fire?" Wilson caught her arm as she sped through the lobby, his eyes filled with concern.

"I need air."

"Okay, I can do that." He led her outside and she sagged against the wall, filling her lungs deeply with cold air.

"What happened?"

"I went to go outside and I heard piano music, and I had to stop to listen. And I went in."

"It was House." Wilson's voice betrayed no emotion, but stated the obvious. House had always escaped during fund raisers when Cuddy gave the bartenders a drink limit for him. Pianos gave him something to do.

"Yeah. He bet me that he could guess my favorite song in five tries. If he did I was supposed to put in a good word with you for him."

Wilson couldn't help the small smile that passed his lips. Maybe there was hope for them after all.

"And what happened?" he prodded gently.

"He guessed Piano Man, Who Loves You, Blackbird and Hey Jude."

Wilson looked at her in confusion. Even he didn't know the full story of Allison's background. Close friends for almost eight months, she still rarely brought up the night that Jacob died, or any time that she spent with Linda and Ron.

"I used to sing Hey Jude to Jacob almost every night. I would change it though, to Hey Jake." Her eyes closed, and she blinked rapidly, trying to keep the tears at bay. "The night he died Ron came home and Jake ran into my room like he always did. I started singing to him" her throat caught and she slid shakily to the ground. "It was the last thing that I did before we went downstairs and got shot at."

Wilson wrapped an arm around her shoulder and hauled her to her feet, allowing her to cry into his shoulder.

"Cuddy won't miss us. Let's get out of here. Do you have all of your stuff?"

"My coat." Goosebumps were beginning to break out along her arms. It was December, after all, and there was snow on the ground.

"Gimmie your ticket and I'll go get them, meet me by the car."

* * *

Somehow, they always ended up at Alice's.

Maybe because of the comforting atmosphere, or the free food. Neither was really sure, but the food at the banquet hadn't been the best, and neither of them had touched it, so here they were; waiting for a plate of nachos and a deck of cards.

It was a bit of an amusing site, the two of them dressed in the extremely nice clothes sitting in the little dinner that was full of greasy food waiting to devour some.

Alice slid into the booth next to Allison while the three other people present dragged over chairs. There was no one there, the last people having left now that it was nearing eleven.

"What happened babe? You look like you met the devil."

"Just Dante," was her weary reply. "Through all nine circles."

"And the reality?"

"Hey Jude." Alice nodded. Monosyllabic answers meant that she didn't want to talk about it at the moment.

"That can be your very own tenth circle then."

"Yay!" Allison cheered mockingly. "My very own circle of hell, how exciting."

"Everyone has one dear."

Wilson shook his head at the two. "I thought we came here to be cheered up. I don't feel very cheered up."

"Spoilsport." Allison shot back at him, but she was grinning.

"Poker?" Alice asked, pulling out the change jar.

Every week all the spare change from tips went into the jar and once every two months the workers had a massive poker tournament with all the spare change. The same people had been working there on and off for as long as Allison could remember and they were like an extended family. The stuff Alice let them use had to be put back. The winner of the tournament usually got a couple hundred dollars while the runner ups got one hundred and fifty apiece.

"I'll kick your asses!" Molly, a thirty-some year old single mom declared with a grin. Drew who was sitting beside her shook his head with a grin.

"Never."

Wilson leaned back into the booth with a quiet sigh, chancing a glance at Allison.

Maybe this was why they kept coming back. The people that worked here were slowly but surely growing to be the big family that he had never had.

Whenever you were there it was just a feeling of warmth radiating around you. Of course there were fights and people you didn't like, but at the end of the day the two of them usually left Alice's feeling a lot better then they had when they entered.

* * *

House stared at his computer screen for a long moment before typing in the words: _Concrete Angel Martina McBride_.

Wilson and Cameron had disappeared almost immediately after his little musical performance and Cuddy was not happy about it at all.

At least someone besides himself would be getting chewed out come Monday and that was half the fun of the fact that she left. The other part of him was curious. House didn't just like puzzles, he loved them. He was obsessed with them. And now he had an old one that was more confusing then ever.

When he finally hit 'enter' the screen changed to reveal his search results.

The first two results were Youtube videos, the third Wikipedia. And then various lyrical websites. He clicked on Wikipedia, then the lyrics, and finally clicked on the Youtube video, listening to the song a frown set on his forehead.

Why the hell was this Cameron's favorite song? Shouldn't it be happy? Now at least, he knew why she had laughed when he told her he could guess her favorite song. There was no way he would have ever associated it with Allison Cameron.

It still left the question though – why did Hey Jude have such a strong effect on her?

* * *

He found her that Monday, looking exhausted and pale, bags under her eyes that for some reason she hadn't even bothered to cover up.

"Hello. That was quite a disappearing act that you pulled on Friday."

"Thanks, I try." Cameron didn't look up from her paperwork as she signed off on it and went to the next curtain and body behind it, House limping along with her.

"Have you been called to Cuddy's office yet? Can I watch?" He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively and got no response. "Why is it that the song 'Hey Jude' can reduce you to tears, why is it that a song about child abuse is your favorite, why won't you help me talk to Wilson, who was Jacob and what happened to him. I know that he was shot, but how and why and how did you know him?"

Allison flinched and struggled for a long minute to keep her face blank and make sure that he voice was steady before shrugging her shoulders and staring at House.

"Who is John Galt?" was her only reply a shadow of a smile on her face at the question.

"Cute. Really cute."

House was itching to start an argument, she could tell. And, truthfully, Cameron was just too tired to do anything about it. She hadn't slept well that weekend, waking up frequently with thoughts of Jacob, Linda, Ron and various other foster people who had hurt her.

She had hurt them as well though, so in some respects it was even.

Cameron had fought as a child. First in her foster homes and her group homes, and when Heather and Ross adopted her she fought them too. She wasn't ready for someone to love her as much as they did.

So, really, when she met House it wasn't weird that he denied feelings, denied even _liking_ her as a person. Because she had been there before. Been unready, unable to accept that she was okay, that it was okay to let people in, to let people love her.

She should have known better then to push House, but she had thought that the man couldn't be as emotionally stunted as she had been. When her sister had first asked her if she loved her Allison had thrown the plate of food she was eating at the wall, only about a foot from where her sister was and stormed out of the room. Nikki had ended up in tears as had Allison. She had also been grounded, because, as understanding as Ross and Heather were they didn't condone violence.

Before she could respond there was the sound of high heels and House smirked, his face lighting up like a child's on Christmas Day.

"Dr. Cameron, my office. N_ow_."

* * *

John Galt is a reference to Atlas Shrugged

Dante and the nine circles of hell – The Divine Comedy


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7: Punishment, and Phone Calls**

Cameron felt like a small child as she followed Dr. Cuddy into her office where Wilson was already sitting.

It was quite different on the other end of the spectrum. Last time they had been to see Cuddy, it had been because Cuddy had done something wrong, and all they had done was make her feel sorry. They were facing disciplinary action.

"You two left the fundraiser on Friday."

Allison and James exchanged glances and then he shrugged before they both looked back at Cuddy.

"That we did."

"Why?"

"Family emergency." Wilson replied. Allison was family, and she had been in no shape to go back to the party.

"And both of you had to leave?"

"We came together." Cameron explained truthfully, "and I was in no shape to drive."

"And neither of you felt the need to notify me?"

"It wasn't something that we were thinking about at the time Cuddy." Wilson snapped in frustration.

"What was the emergency?"

"What?" Cameron asked.

"Am I not entitled to know what the emergency was that took two of my doctors away from the most important fundraiser of the year?"

"I don't really feel comfortable telling you Dr. Cuddy, but it was an emergency."

Cuddy scowled, but she knew by the firm set of Cameron's jaw that the woman wasn't going to tell her what happened.

"Extra clinic duty for both of you for a month." Cuddy stood, signaling that the meeting was over. "And if either of you leave a fundraiser early without telling me again there will be further issues."

* * *

If Wilson was going to do this, he was going to have to do it now and actually mean it.

Going across the balcony would be his best bet, he mused. No one would be able to see him until he got into House's office – that was, if he had the blinds open, which he usually didn't.

And that was it. With a quick hop Wilson was sliding through the glass door and into the dark office of one Gregory House.

"I don't care Kutner. We cured our patient. _Go away_."

House's back was to the door, his legs were propped up on his desk, and he was playing catch with the red/grey ball.

"How'd you get to the balcony anyway?"

"I'm not Kutner, so it wasn't hard."

House fumbled the ball, but that was the only indication that anything was wrong before he turned slightly to look at Wilson, his eyes betraying nothing.

"What are you doing here?"

"Came to talk to you," Wilson replied, taking a seat and staring at House.

"Really?"

"Stop harassing Cameron."

"Why?" House threw the ball at Wilson who caught it and tossed it back to him. _Just like old times…_

"Because she doesn't want to talk about it."

"Oh, how sweet" House crooned. "Little Jimmy Wilson coming to Cameron's rescue from the big bad scary man with the cane."

"She doesn't know I'm asking you to leave her alone" Wilson admitted calmly.

"And why not?" Now he was curious.

"Because Allie doesn't think that I know about you going down and bugging her everyday in the ER."

Houses' face was a mask. Had they really, after all these years, come down to this? Arguing over bothering Allison Cameron?

"I have to go." He stood up and grabbed his cane, a sardonic smile on his face. "Clinic duty and all that. Cuddy and I have some toys set up in one of the rooms." He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. "Cameron agreed to join us. You're welcome to watch."

Wilson stood and watched him leave.

* * *

Wilson took a late lunch and at about two made his way over to Alice's.

She saw him and smiled and waved before seeing the dejected look on his face.

"Aww, honey, what happened?"

They sat down and she poured him a cup of coffee.

"I went to go tell House to stop harassing Cameron and going down to the ER." Wilson looked down at his hands and sighed. "It's been seven months, Alice."

"You miss him." It was a statement not a question.

"He's been my best – and one of my only – friends for years. Not that I have that many friends now. It used to just be House and me, and now it's Allison and I, on occasion you, and sometimes Tina, but she's still in the process of moving here. Of course I miss him."

Alice stared at him for a long moment. "When Allison lost Jake, I waited a little while to approach her. She was just a little feisty thing back then - a slip of a girl, because she never got enough to eat - that was covered in bruises. I was afraid to approach her because I wasn't sure how she would react to me. I now know that she blamed herself, and I was blaming myself, but I wasn't sure if she blamed me or not. I didn't want to approach her and see the same self loathing and hate directed at me that I already felt."

"Point being?"

"Maybe House not talking to you wasn't him running away from you. It was him running away from himself."

Wilson stared at her blankly and Alice sighed. "What is it with you kids theses days…" she muttered under her breath before shaking her head. "He was afraid to approach you, because if you blamed him for Amber's death he wouldn't be able to handle it."

"Why didn't he tell me that though? Why didn't you tell me that?"

"Because when I met you, you weren't ready to hear that. Sometimes you just have to let anger and blame run their courses."

"But I didn't blame him." Wilson whispered in confusion. "Not at first. When she died I wanted a friend and House wasn't there. It was only when he hightailed out of there that I started blaming him. And not for Amber's death, but for leaving me when I needed someone the most. It was something that House would do – go out and get drunk, and it was no surprise that he would need a ride home. But it should've been me with him; I should've been the one in the crash."

"Things don't always work out the way you expect them to James. In fact, most of the time they don't. And sometimes that's a good thing in the long run. It hurts like hell, but it changes you." Alice put a hand on his arm. "When you decided to go see House, was it just to tell him to leave AJ alone? Or was it also because on a subconscious level you wanted to see him? The truth is James, he's probably afraid to approach you. And you're just as afraid to approach him. So someone has to make a move. And if you want anything to happen, you're going to have to talk to him first. Make the first move. Whenever you're ready. I can't guarantee that he'll want to talk to you, but the only thing that you can do is try."

* * *

Tina sat on the hospital bed as she watched her cousin expertly stitch up her hand.

"You're worse then me Tina." Allison chided. "Try to be more careful."

"Stupid knife."

"Stupid you not knowing how to _hold_ a knife properly."

"Well, we match now."

The stitches were right across Tina's palm, on what was called the 'heart line'.

Allison grimaced. A few weeks into her stay with Linda and Ron, Ron had become enraged and sliced her hand with a knife. The cut sliced directly where she was stitching up Tina's hand. It had been deep enough to leave a scar.

Tina had cut her hand herself. Washing dishes the knife had slipped from her fist and she had grabbed it without thinking, efficiently cutting open her palm.

"But you were being stupid. I was being disrespectful."

Tina rolled her eyes. "Of course you were."

Cameron winced as she heard the familiar footsteps of House.

"What?"

"Remember how I told you that House has been coming down here everyday and bothering me?"

"Yep. I asked you if you wanted me to do something about it."

Allison nodded and began wrapping the hand up, so the stitches wouldn't get dirty or infected. "Yeah and I ignored you."

"Thanks dearest."

"Always. Anyway, he's down here."

Tina looked up and scanned the area until she found the man that Cameron had described to her many times.

"So that's the infamous Dr. House."

"Yep."

"Can I say hi?" Tina's eyes lit up. "Can I go tell him to leave you alone?"

"Can I tear out all of your stitches and pour Tabasco sauce on your hand?" It was a good natured reply, brought on by another 'respect' lesson from Ron.

"Let's not and say you did."

Cameron didn't have a chance to respond, cut off by House's voice.

"What'd this one do?" He looked from the hand that Cameron was almost done wrapping to the two of them.

"I do have a name." Tina watched House watching her. He was, she decided, cute, in a completely, only Allie would like him, way.

But her cousin was rarely wrong with her first feelings about people and Tina hated to get things rubbed in her face, so she kept her mouth shut.

And maybe, if everything worked out she would have someone new to snark at. That was always fun.

"Do I care?"

"I don't know. Do you?" Tina mocked. Cameron tied off her hand and Tina hopped down from her perch.

"Thanks Blondie." House was watching the two of them with interest, and Tina was half tempted to mess with House, if she hadn't known that Cameron wouldn't participate. A one-woman act was good, but not _that_ good. It wasn't worth it.

"No problem, Tina. Just try not to be so stupid." Tina stuck her tongue out and took two steps before whirling around.

"Oh! I forgot. You ditched Thanksgiving. Aunt Heather wanted to know, are you coming home for the holidays? She's been yelling at me because you never answer your phone, you brat."

Cameron shrugged. "Tina – I never make Thanksgiving. I always help Alice. And I have no idea about the holidays."

"It's two weeks before Christmas AJ!"

"First of all, we're Jewish. It doesn't matter when Christmas is. Second of all-"

"How else are we going to have our Chinese dinner?"

Allison rolled her eyes. "Second of all," she repeated firmly, "the schedule is constantly changing. Plus-" She paused. House was right behind her and she wasn't going to bring up that night. She was still on Cuddy's shit list for that.

"Yeah, I know." Tina had been filled in on the events from the weekend when she had shown up at Alice's on Sunday. Allison hadn't been there, but Alice passed along information between the cousins.

"Good times." Cameron shrugged. "I'll call you later Tina."

"Later 'gator." A quick hug and she was out the door before another word was spoken. Cameron met Houses' eyes steadily.

"What?"

* * *

House wandered back up to his office after a brief staring contest with Cameron. The only thing he had been able to figure was that the two were cousins, judging by the 'Aunt Heather', whoever the hell she was.

Cameron hadn't said a word, just called the next patient, pretending like he didn't exist.

He hadn't gotten a chance to ask about Jimmy-Boy and his defensive 'leave Cameron alone' speech. Now he was really curious as to if they were sleeping together or not. He also wanted to know if she really hadn't said anything to him, or if that was all part of Wilson's act.

Because if she had really been keeping his random, harassing visits to the ER a secret, something weird was going on, or as House had always thought, Cameron was a masochist.

House sat down, slumped in his chair and picked up his red/grey ball. It was Monday and another long four days of torturous work and then empty time lay before him.

As a child, John House had organized his son's life so that every hour was occupied. No free time, no time to sit around and do nothing. House had come to realize later on that being busy was good sometimes. It was easier to take your mind off of things when you were busy.

When House had gotten back to work, he had thrown himself into working. There was a point when there were two or three patients in the diagnostic department at once.

It was then that he realized how empty his life was without Wilson.

Monday nights were poker nights. Tuesdays had been Hooker nights, until he had Cuddy, and now he was back to hookers. Wednesday nights he usually stayed home to watch General Hospital or the OC and drank by himself. Thursday, Friday, and Saturday were all Wilson nights. Sunday usually was too. Be it harassment, beer and sports or something entirely different Wilson was the only one who House spent time with.

A.A.D – After Amber's Death, the schedule had changed.

Monday was still poker, Tuesday was still hooker/Cuddy, and Wednesday was still nothing, but House suddenly had three or four nights a week where all he had was _time_.

Time to sit, time to think, time to pop pills and be even more miserable then he had been when he had left the state.

So he sat at home, waiting to come up with a brilliant way to approach Wilson and make everything okay.

And the only thing that would have made everything better was if Amber hadn't died. If Wilson had never met her. If he had never gone out drinking that night and gotten so wasted he was practically swimming in scotch.

There was nothing that could fix this.

It was All. His. Fault.

* * *

"Allison!"

Cameron turned to see Wilson striding towards her in the parking lot.

"Hey, didn't see you at lunch, everything okay?" She greeted tiredly.

"Yeah, I took a late lunch and went to see Alice. I want to talk to you about something, is that okay?"

"Sure." She yawned. "But I won't be very good company for very long, I'm exhausted."

"Then I'll drive you home, we can talk, and then I'll leave so you can crash." Allison eyed him. "And I'll pick you up tomorrow before work." Wilson amended.

"Deal Jimmy. I don't want to take a cab. And I'll even pay for the pizza tonight."

"As long as we don't get anchovies." Wilson ushered Cameron to his car and she slipped into the passenger seat, grinning at him.

* * *

"I do have to tell you that you're freaking me out a bit."

Cameron watched Wilson as he paced back and forth in front of her. A half eaten box of pizza sat on the coffee table and Cameron was slouched on her couch a coke in hand.

They had watched some old movie that Wilson had picked out; but the movie had long ago ended, leaving a blank reflected blue screen that reflected eerily on Cameron's face, casting a glow around the room as well.

"I just don't know what to say."

"Jimmy, unless you killed someone, I think that there's not a lot that will upset me."

"I want to call House."

Cameron continued to stare at him.

"And…" She trailed off and waved her hand, pointedly trying to get him to fill in the blank. He didn't respond and Cameron sighed, stood up and forced him back to the couch before sitting down next to him.

"You don't need my permission for that Jimmy."

"I don't?" He looked at her. "Why do I feel like I do?"

"Am I my brothers' keeper?" She intoned before shaking her head. "I have no idea why you felt the need to ask me. But that doesn't matter, because I actually think that it's high time that you gave House a call," Cameron admitted easily.

"So you're not mad?"

"Unless you suddenly stop hanging out with me completely and become an asshole we're good."

Allison kissed his cheek. "And if he hurts you, I'll kick his ass." She stood up. "Be careful though, because I don't want to see you hurt. Crash on the couch or go home, but I'm going to bed Jimmy. I'm exhausted. Night Jimmy."

And with that she stumbled into her room and left Wilson sitting on the couch with a lot to think about.

* * *

House grumbled as he limped into his apartment. Poker night had been long and beer filled, but he had ended up behind which never made him happy.

There was a missed call on his answering machine and House wondered idly who was stupid enough to try and call him. If it was his parents and they were coming to visit, he didn't want to hear it. Anyone else would call his cell phone, which he would also not answer.

Just for kicks though, House hit the _play_ button and listened to the monotone, robot voice tell him, _you have one new message_.

"House – it's Wilson." There was dead silence and then a soft sigh. "Call me back." Another silence. "Please."


	8. Chapter 8

Thanks to MissingCanceledShows for betaing,

* * *

**Chapter 8: Did This Really Just Happen?**

House sat in the dark for a long time, nursing a beer in one hand and holding his phone in the other.

Wilson wanted to talk to him. It was the only thing that kept running through his mind. Wilson wanted to talk to him. _Why?_

He had no idea. But House had a feeling it didn't have anything to do with Cameron. They had already gone that route, and Wilson would have confronted him face-to-face if he felt the need.

No, this had to be something different.

* * *

Tuesday rolled around, and while it had been less then twenty-four hours, Wilson was still nervous that he hadn't heard from House.

He knew that the two hadn't talked to each other in seven months, but he had expected _some_ form of reciprocation.

Cameron hadn't said anything when he had asked what she thought would happen and that alone worried him.

Cameron usually had a guess about how House would act, and her guesses could be pretty dead-on. But she had just shrugged.

_It depends on how hurt he feels._ She had explained. _Between the two of you it's been almost eight months of silence. House might feel abandoned, or want to treat you unjust and give you the cold shoulder back, when he started it to begin with. At least with all the cat fights and behind the back talking girls do, when someone apologizes, its over and done with except for snide comments that fade after a little._

* * *

Tuesday led into Wednesday and then Thursday, and by Friday Cameron had threatened Wilson with various forms of bodily harm if he didn't take a breather and calm down.

By the next Monday she had resorted to glaring at him from time to time and shaking her head, mumbling under her breath _"Men."_

* * *

"Hello?" Alice's voice echoed through the kitchen and she stuck her head out until she met Houses' eyes.

"Good to see you again Dr. House."

"You're not going to throw me out?"

Alice shrugged. "Allie has been in here and so has Jimmy. He wants to talk to you, she's wants you to talk to him, and I just happen to hear all of it." A ghost of a smile flickered across her face. "And I do have to say, I'm curious to hear what you have to say."

"So immediately we're starting off on the prejudice that they're right and I'm wrong?"

"If I thought that they were completely right you wouldn't be here," was Alice's immediate response.

"So I'm right?"

"I never said that either." She poured two cups of coffee and handed one to him. "Sugar right?" She went about mixing in a heap of sugar and settled down in a booth across from him.

"So what are you saying then?" House was watching her cynically.

"Who say that anyone has to be right Dr. House? Everyone made some form of mistake."

"Are you going to pick my brain for answers and then analyze me?"

"I'm not a psychiatrist Dr. House, I just happen to be a good listener who can give good advice."

"And having Jimmy ignore me for eight months was good advice?" He snarked bitterly.

"You seem to be forgetting that James can form his own opinions, and as an adult is responsible for his own actions." Alice didn't loose her cool as House continued to stare at her. "What James had to deal with was the _then_ the _now_. The _how do I make it through to the next day?_ Not, _what can I say to House to make him feel better for thinking that he killed my girlfriend._" Alice shrugged. "It doesn't work that way."

"Why not?"

Alice rolled her eyes. "Life doesn't work that way Dr. House."

"You can drop the doctor," House grumbled, "no one uses it anyway."

"Only if you call me Alice," She finished her coffee and stood. "Just one passing thought before I leave you to you coffee House. You told me earlier that no one could have possible experienced the pain that you went through. I'm not conceding your point by any means, but I'll let you see it that way if you want to. James' girlfriend died, and it hurt James. It broke him a little bit. How long did it take you to return to a semblance of yourself?"

"Point?"

"He gave you time, didn't he? You wanted time, and James didn't. But then you gave him time, and he got angry so he retaliated." She paused for half a second before adding, "anyone can become angry, House. That's the easy part. But to be angry at the right person, at the right time, for the right reason – that's hard. Sometimes it's damn near impossible."

House finished his coffee silently, and stood up, pulling his wallet it out of his pocket.

Alice walked out of the kitchen and shook her head.

"Don't worry about it House, I'll put it on AJ's tab." House raised an eyebrow in confusion and Alice snapped her mouth shut. "I forgot that she goes by Cameron with your group."

"AJ?"

"Allison Jane."

"Allison Jane Cameron." House rolled it off his tongue.

"Allison Jane." Alice repeated firmly. "That's who she's been her whole life. Wasn't a Cameron until she was thirteen, almost fourteen. Allison Jane she'll always be."

House didn't know what to say to that, so he let it slide.

* * *

Three days later House walked into Wilson's office while his friend was with a patient and sat down.

He didn't say anything, and the patient kept shooting him concerned looks. Wilson only shot him one smile before he continued to talk about the patients' treatment plan.

When the patient left, House limped back onto the balcony and then down to the ER. Cuddy had granted his ex-ducklings vacation request and she was leaving in five days for a four day vacation, coming home Christmas Eve day. He wanted to harass her a little before she left. She was still a puzzle to him, and there weren't enough pieces to solve her yet.

"Hello AJ." It was the first time he had acknowledged her on one of his visits to the ER besides a snide comment or some food thrown her way.

"Been talking to Alice?" was all she said, a note of amusement in her voice.

"Your mom," he shot back sardonically.

"My mom doesn't call me AJ."

"No?"

"Allie-luv," her voice was now clearly amused. "She just never caught on to AJ. Said that my name was Allison, and someone should use a form of it, even if it was a diminutive. So she did."

House smirked. "Can I call you Allie-luv?"

"Only in your dreams."

He took a step closer to invade her personal space, and was rewarded with wide eyes and a quick step back. _Still got it…_ he thought satisfied.

"What do you want House?" He stared at her lips and thought about kissing them. Thought about telling her that Wilson was his, and that he had him back now _nah nah na na na_. Thought about asking her about Concrete Angel and Jacob. But he didn't do any of that, just stared for a minute, as she looked uncomfortably away from his to thoughtful gaze.

"Something I can't have."

And with that he left. Maybe Wilson would be willing to buy him lunch even though they still hadn't said two words to each other.

* * *

Wilson was watching him from across the table as he expertly picked through a salad, tossing away the lettuce that looked like it had been picked up by patients as they walked the grounds.

"Are we just not going to talk ever again?" He asked finally, trying to break the silence.

House took another chip and took a loud bite, smacking his lips. "I was thinking about it, but I guess we could talk about something. Did you see the new nurse in cardio? She has six fingers on her right hand and looks like a man."

"I thought she was a man the first time I saw her." Wilson admitted. "And then one of the other nurses called out 'Susan' and she responded. Confused me for a minute. Did you see the new janitor, the one who used to be a male prostitute?"

House snorted. "Nope. Not yet. Does he look like Chase?"

Wilson grinned broadly. "I haven't seen him yet either, but some of the nurses were fawning over him."

"Up in peds?"

"No, down in the ER." Wilson's brow wrinkled for a moment. "I haven't really been anywhere in the other departments when I'm not needed."

"No new nurses."

"No." He thought of what Allison had said all those months ago when he had gotten the woman's number. That he could get a number and not call her back. But it was different with the nurses at the hospital. "Al's been harassing me to go and flirt, but its harder then anyone would think."

"She thinks you should date?" House wouldn't admit he was surprised, but he was. He had expected Cameron to expect Wilson to stay loyal to Amber for years and years, until he found someone just as damaged as House to try and fix.

Wilson just nodded, choosing not to get into it with House. "Yeah, she does."

House took a bite of his Reuben before frowning.

"There are pickles on my Reuben."

"You say that like you're surprised."

"They stopped for a while." House handed Wilson his sandwich and Wilson peeled the pickles off without thinking about it, popping them into his mouth.

"Good to be back?" Wilson questioned with a tired grin.

"Yeah. Yeah, it is."

* * *

House wasn't exactly sure how it happened, but a tired Allison Cameron was carting the two of them home.

She wasn't angry, which confused him even more.

The two of them were completely wasted, but he wasn't getting a speech about alcohol or getting drunk in the middle of the week, or how she probably had to go to work in five hours.

"Have fun?"

"Yep." Wilson giggled and put an arm around her shoulder.

"Jimmy?"

"Allie?"

"I'm driving, and I really do not want to get in an accident."

"Okay?"

"You smell like a tavern and it's very distracting."

"What if I kiss you?"

"I'll throw you out of the car."

"No you won't."

Cameron pulled over and raised an eyebrow. "I won't?"

House laughed. "She's got you there." He leaned forward so he was between Cameron and Wilson, as Wilson pulled his arm back.

"What if I kiss you?"

"Out the car you go too." She glanced back for a split second to smile. "And you're less wasted them Jimmy, so I'd throw you harder."

"You probably throw like a girl."

"Next time you see Alice ask her about the time I beat Ian up."

"Was that when you had purple hair?" Cameron silently cursed. Trust a drunk Wilson to start asking personal questions with House in the car.

"Purple hair?" Cameron signaled and switched back into traffic with an eye roll.

"Let's not get personal tonight. Now, which one of you has keys, and are you staying at one person's place?"

"You can take us both to my place Allie, if you have my key, because I don't know where I put mine."

"House, do you have yours?"

"That's a half hour out of your way." Wilson pointed out.

"Why are you coherent enough to know things like that?" Cameron snapped, irritated.

"I don't know. Can we crash at your place?"

"If either of you wake me up at a crazy hour I will kill you." She threatened. "But yes. Only because I don't feel like adding onto my driving time at three in the morning."

* * *

The moment that Wilson was on Cameron's couch, he was out like a light, snoring loudly.

"And where am I supposed to sleep?" House leered at Cameron brightly. "Your bed?"

"I have a futon in the small bedroom to your right. Let me grab some blankets and change and I'll set it up for you."

She disappeared into her bedroom, presumably to change from her ratty jeans and paint stained t-shirt into something else, something more 'pajama' like.

House followed her and watched almost mesmerized as she stripped off her shirt and unhooked her bar, pulling on the shirt that was on her bed.

There were thin white lines on her back that House figured were scars, and when he approached her to ask _who the hell beat you? _she whirled around, the shirt to her chest.

"House!"

"What?" He asked innocently. "I'm drunk, low inhibitions."

"First off, _you're_ drunk, _I'm_ not. Second off, why the hell would that matter? Stay away."

Still clutching the shirt to her chest with one hand she propelled him out of the room with the other.

"Linens are in the closet by the spare room. Take care of it yourself."

She slammed the door in his face and House started. "Who beat you up?" He called, but she didn't respond.

* * *

The next morning she cornered him, face angry.

"Let's get this straight. I'm glad that you and Wilson are friends again. But that doesn't make _us _friends. So stay _out _of my personal life."

"That's it? No hug and kiss of congratulations? Just an 'I'm glad your back?'" House threw at her. "I thought little Allie-Luv with her need to cure everyone would want to hug me and sew me back together with magical kisses."

"Guess what House? Life doesn't work that way. Just -"

Cameron shook her head when she realized that there were no words to describe what she didn't want him to do. She hadn't lied when she had told him she was glad about him and Wilson. But her life? Cameron was fine without House.

But she did, after all, start it when she told him her mother called her Allie-Luv. Or maybe it was Alice's fault for calling her AJ instead of Allison. But she couldn't blame Alice for doing that, it was a normal mistake.

"Just, don't." Cameron finally settled on.

Wilson walked into Houses office and raised an eyebrow.

"Hi James." She shot a final look at House and then disappeared.

"What was that about?" Wilson asked, handing House a cup of coffee.

House shrugged innocently. "I have no idea."

* * *

Alice is paraphrasing Aristotle: _Anyone can become angry - that is easy. But to be angry with the right person, to the right degree, at the right time, for the right purpose, and in the right way - that is not easy. _

Aristotle


	9. Chapter 9

**It's a bit of a filler... more soon.**

Jess

* * *

**Chapter 9: Family and Vacations**

Two days after cornering House, Cameron rolled up her sleeves and offered herself to Alice. Alice understood that Allison wanted to stay busy, and granted her a day of work.

Sundays at Alice's were always busy, there being a handful of churches in the general area. The morning rush was the joggers, the park walkers and the people who just woke up at ridiculous hours on the weekend. Then there was the brunch rush of families with older children, a few older couples, and other groups of people. Lunch brought the college students who had stumbled out of bed minutes before, along with parents with newborns. During the odd hour between lunch and dinner – considered supper (but known to the workers as 'four o'clock food') – Alice's was once again packed by the older crowd, and people just stopping in for a quick coffee or snack. Another hour brought the dinner rush, and a few more hours passed before the late eaters and the drinkers entered.

By the time Sunday ended, everyone was exhausted. But by then, Monday had rolled around. Exhaustion was good. Exhaustion made thinking harder.

* * *

For some reason, House felt drawn back to Alice's. He had stopped in a few times, and today he was warming up with a coffee to go, on his way back from a patient's apartment. His new ducklings – or, ducklings 2.0 as he sometimes called them – couldn't do anything right, especially not search an apartment.

"Missing AJ's coffee?"

"What?"

Alice smirked. "AJ told me that she used to make all of your coffee. Who do you think she learned how to make coffee from? This isn't that instant crap, Dr. House."

House took a sip and grinned. "I didn't think of it the first time I was here." He admitted. Alice was a calming source to be around. She was always smiling, always joking, and seemed to know exactly how to deal with most people. The various people here seemed to be regulars and the workers were nice.

"Busy being a green-eyed monster, hmmm?"

House stared at her, at loss for words for a minute. So she had noticed that too?

"I may be old House, but I'm not an idiot."

"True."

"She also told me about your fight."

"Our fight? She cornered me and demanded that I leave her alone. No fight about it."

"You cornered her first."

"What?"

"You were looking for answers that she wasn't willing to give."

"And you are?"

"I'm pretty sure that this is one puzzle you can figure out on your own House." Alice replied. "But no, I'm not going to give you answers."

"Someone hit her."

He had known that Cameron was damaged, that someone had hurt her, broken her, but he hadn't _thought_ about it.

Alice merely looked up and waited for him to continue. "She has scars on her back like someone beat her."

Alice didn't respond. "This is the part where you tell me what happened."

"This is the part where you ask AJ." She corrected gently.

"Except she won't tell me, and she already left for Christmas."

"Hanukkah. Then you'll have to wait until she gets back."

* * *

"You making latkes?"

Wilson didn't look up from his paperwork. It still surprised him sometimes that after eight months of silence, they had immediately fallen back into their old routine of banter and traditions for the most part.

When the holidays were over though, Wilson knew that House might have a few problems hanging out with Cameron; the two were like fire and ice at the moment. They really just needed to have sex already. The tension was killing him, and it had been less then a week.

"Tomorrow. I promised Alice I'd stop in for some coffee tonight. Do you want to come with?"

House thought for a moment. "Nah I'm good. Come buy me lunch."

Wilson sighed and stood up.

"C'mon. After all of those months you should have a decent stash of cash saved up."

"Maybe I was saving it for something."

"Like what?"

"My retirement fund." Wilson threw out.

"The hospital takes money out of your paycheck for that kind of crap."

"I had enough money to have actually paid every wife Alimony."

House rolled his eyes. Wilson had never been late with a payment that much he knew.

"I want a Reuben. Let's go." Wilson followed him out of the room.

"One of these days _you're_ going to buy _me_ lunch."

* * *

"Morning mom." Heather Cameron smiled at her oldest daughter, wrapping an arm around her. They were almost eye level, Heather Cameron's 5'8 frame just barely towering over her daughter's. Dark brown hair with gray wisps framed even darker brown eyes and a gentle smile.

"Morning, Allie-Luv. Sleep well?"

"Bear was snoring." She hugged her mother and allowed herself to relish in her embrace. The siblings all chose to stay with their parents this year. Teddy and Allie crashed together as well as Brandon and Nikki so that Ian's brood didn't have to all share a room, but had instead been able to spread out in two rooms and a guest room.

"I wasn't!" Her brother, a lanky, dark haired, dark eyed twenty three year old protested, lifting Allison in the air.

"Bear put me down!"

"Say I don't snore. And don't call me bear, _Alligator_."

"Mom!"

"Put your sister down Teddy-Dear. Allie-Luv, don't tease your brother."

"But it's fun."

"Allie, come help me make breakfast. It's Sunday and everyone will be here soon." And with that Heather led her daughter into the kitchen, effectively ending the argument.

Sunday mornings with the Cameron's meant lazy days and loud music.

Allison could still remember waking up to the thrum of music, the kind that bounced its way into your skin and matched your heart, beat for beat. _Alison _when Ross was trying to get her to smile and Heather in the kitchen making pancakes, Nicole helping with flour all over her face.

Eggs, oatmeal, hash browns, and various pastries cooking and the radio playing. No bacon, because although they didn't keep kosher, the Cameron's refused to eat pigs. Sunday meant grocery shopping, homework and games; swimming in the summer in their pool, ice skating at the local rink in the winter.

Allison rolled up the sleeves of her sweatshirt and went about getting the ingredients she would need to make pancakes.

"How are you really, Allie-Luv?"

"I'm fine mom."

"I talk to Alice and Tina as well as you, so that's a lie." The egg that she was holding broke a little to hard against the side of the bowl and the shell ended up with the rest of the pancake mix.

"Shit!"

"Allie-Luv, language." Heather reprimanded mildly. She took the bowl from her daughter. "Do you want to tell me what's going on now? With you and Dr. House? Alice said she thinks that one day you're just going to lose it and have sex on one of her tables."

"Mom! And how would Alice know? She's seen us together the grand total of zero times."

"So you don't want to talk about it?"

"Nope."

"Okay." Heather finished picking the eggshell out of the bowl and handed it back to her. "I'm here though, when you're ready."

Allison just nodded, not knowing what to say.

* * *

"AJ!" Her brother, a tall, coffee-colored skin man with curly brown hair called out, jogging to catch up with her.

"Jesus, slow down." She was taking one her long walks through the neighborhood, something she always did when she wanted to think. Some days the walks had turned into hour long expeditions, logging in four or five miles.

"Sorry."

"No you're not."

"No I'm not." She agreed, reaching out to hug Ian. "I missed you."

"Well, we're busy, busy people AJ, it's not like we can take lots and lots of breaks."

"We live an hour and a half from each other."

Ian shrugged. "Busy AJ."

"Busy Fabio." She mocked back.

Ian Fabio Cameron winced. "Don't I threaten you with bodily harm when you all me Fabio?"

"Don't I ignore you every time?"

"So why are you out walking? You've only been here for two days. No one can piss you off the quickly."

"Wrong."

"Okay," Ian amended "no one can piss you off easily enough _here_ to make you start walking. And don't even try to deny it."

"I know. You know about House, right?"

"Sweetheart, of course I do."

"Don't call me sweetheart." She responded immediately. The elementary school was within eyesight now and Allison headed towards the swings. "I need to sit down for this one."

* * *

"Wow." Ian pumped his legs higher and watched his sister. "You're lucky you made me promise not to kill him before you told me any of that."

"The date was almost four years ago, Fabio."

"And the fact that you're telling me now shows how much it stills stings AJ."

"He called me broken Ian. Damaged. And after all those years of everyone loving me even when I thought I was broken and telling me I wasn't, I didn't have a proper response. I just sat there. And I knew if I called you that you would've been down there as fast as possible and would've beaten the crap out of him." She let go of the swing and went flying, landing perfectly on her feet. A few seconds later Ian mirrored her move and took a mocking bow.

"I thought we learned not to use our fists."

"Did we?" Her face was serious. "Because I don't think that anyone besides mom and dad taught us that lesson, and by then I think, hit first ask questions later had been ingrained in our brains."

"That's why we do our jobs AJ." Ian was a social worker out in the Bronx, helping children like he had been when there was no one to help him. And Allison was saving peoples lives, something that the doctors hadn't been able to do for Jacob. Ian covered her hand, and then drew back in surprise. "You're like ice!"

"It is December. In Chicago."

"Well, let's go home. I'm sure that the family is looking for us."

"And your wife is probably frantic."

Ian chuckled. Ellen had learned years ago that the two adopted siblings were prone to disappear for hours to talk. They understood each other in a way that the other three couldn't. Sometimes they would bring along some of Ian's brood – three out of the five were adopted, and there were seven children with them in all, two being fostered temporarily.

Ian hauled his sister to her feet, and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. It was true Allison was a little cold with just a heavy sweatshirt on, but she had fared worse with Ron. Besides, she was a Chicago girl; the twenty degree weather was nothing.

"Feel better now?"

"Maybe." Ian sighed and hugged her closer. He really had to meet this House of hers. And after he smacked him for hurting his sister's feelings, then maybe he would haul him to his feet and buy him a beer.

* * *

The services began and Allison settled down next to Ian and her father. It continued on, and Allison drifted, as she always did. She couldn't help it.

The countless hours she had spent in various places of worship had made her bit hard to the idea of God. Jacobs' death and the abuse she had suffered had just made it harder to believe.

The time came to stand and say someone's name that you wished to recite the Mourners Kaddish for, and Allison stood, as always. She recited the name _Jacob Drew_ and at the last minute added _Gregory House _and _James Wilson_.

Ian tensed next to her slightly, but other then that gave no reaction. They had learned that the Mourners Kaddish was not just to be recited for the dead but for those who were sick or just needed another prayer. And if there was a God, maybe he could help the two of them.

* * *

Services went on for a little longer and then it was time for the small Hanukkah party back at the Cameron's. Their family was large, but not huge.

The Hanukkah dinner, complete with a latke-eating contest, had happened the night before, and tonight was just a night of relaxation and fun.

The three children who were having a Bar or Bat Mitzvah that year took turns lighting the menorah and reciting the appropriate prayers.

They scampered to fill the circle that had been made, gripping hands tightly.

"_Hanukkah, Oh Hanukkah, come light the menorah  
Let's have a party, we'll all dance the hora  
Gather round the table, we'll give you a treat  
Sivivon to play with, and latkes to eat -_"

The group danced, hands held tightly, whirling in a circle spinning in and out and laughing every time someone missed a step or hit someone else shoulder.

Presents had been next, wrapping paper flying everywhere.

Finally, after presents, a few games with the dreidal and various other activities it was time for the family to part ways.

A few hours later Allison climbed up to her room, and changed into her pajamas. She was startled slightly by a knock on the door, and opened it expecting to see Teddy standing impatiently on the threshold of 'their' (but really her) bedroom.

"Hi daddy!" Ross Cameron smiled at his daughter. His hair was a perpetual grey and he wore wire rimmed glasses, covered a blue-grey eye that almost matched Allison's.

"Hey AJ. Are you about ready for bed?" A full fledged smile crossed her face and Allison settled into her bed, as Ross heaved himself down next to her.

Her father had usually been the one to rush into the room when her screams woke the household. If she wanted to talk, they did. But when she didn't, Ross would sing her to sleep. Usually songs from synagogue. Songs that weren't even in English half the time.

He started now, his low baritone voice soothing and gentle.

_L'chi lach, to a land that I will show you.  
Leich l'cha to a place you do not know.  
L'chi lach, on your journey I will bless you.  
And you shall be a blessing, you shall be a blessing you shall be a blessing, l'chi lach._

This had always been one of her favorites. Just the words, _and you shall be a blessing._ The fact that Ross thought her to be wonderful, that she was there because they wanted her there. Not because the Camerons were doing some civic duty by taking in foster children, but because they loved her.

"Get some sleep baby girl."

"Love you daddy."

"Love you too."

Ross Cameron watched her sleep for moment, before sneaking out of the room. She always looked so peaceful when she slept. He could for long periods forget about the scars on her back, the way that she had came into their life, Alice and Jacob and Ron and Linda. But it was only watching her sleep, her face serene, that he realized how safe she felt. How much love she had been given here. At least until she went back out into the real world. Ian had pulled him aside the other day and asked if he knew about Dr. House.

Ross hadn't, and while he wasn't upset with Allison for not telling him, he didn't like the man that his daughter had seemed to once almost love. Just as long as he never met the man he would be okay. Dr. House would have a lot to answer for.

* * *

Hanukkah had been a delightful affair, as always, but Allison was glad that it was over.

Tina had managed to get on the same flight as her on the way home and had convinced the woman next to Cameron to switch seats with her. The woman had thought it sweet, cooing something about family and spending time together while they had smiled and nodded.

"Okay, so spill." Allison's smirk was bright.

"On what?"

"Aunt Karen said you were seeing someone."

"I'm not." Tina blushed. "We're not seeing each other, we're just friends. We went out for lunch once and dinner and drinks twice. Really, its nothing."

"Do I get to know his name?"

"No."

"Do I know him?"

Tina didn't answer and Allison's eyes widened. "Christina Rose Schwartz, you tell me right now who it is."

Tina's shoulders slumped and she sighed. "The day I went back to the hospital to get my stitches taken out, I ran into Dr. Wilson."

Allison's eyes widened but she said nothing.

"He asked me what I was doing there, I told him about my brilliant knife catching skills and that I had to get the stitches taken out. We went out for a quick lunch since neither of us had eaten. We would have gotten you but the ER was completely packed. We couldn't even find you. And then I ran into him again while I was grocery shopping. And he called me once and we met for drinks."

"Say something." Tina pleaded, starting to look worried.

"Sorry. Just you and James – just -" she paused to think. "It'll be interesting that's for sure." House had always reminded her of Tina, in a way, with the same blunt attitude and sarcasm.

"We're not even dating!"

"Chill pill Xtina," Cameron sang out, reverting back to her cousins' childhood nickname. "I just said that it would be interesting nothing else." She rested her head against the seat and closed her eyes. "I'm taking a nap. If I'm not awake before we land, wake me up."

* * *

The girls rode the escalator down to the baggage claim, leaning against one another sleepily. Alice had driven Allison to the airport, but they had told her they would get a cab home, due to the hour being so late it was now three in the morning.

It was Tina who first noticed them, and she blinked rapidly and then pinched her cousin.

"Tina!" Allison flailed slightly.

"We don't need to call a cab."

Wilson was grinning cheerfully, a grumpy House standing beside him.

"At least it will be interesting," was all Cameron had to offer her cousin.

Hanukkah, Oh Hanukkah – I don't know, but it's not mine.

L'Chi Lach – Debbie Friedman


	10. Chapter 10

So my beta and I were very busy. The good news is I have another chapter ready and it will be up either tomorrow or Tuesday. I promise.

Jess

* * *

**Chapter 10: Pictures to the Soul**

Snow began to fall had begun on the way back to Allison's apartment (Tina was just going to sleep there so Wilson didn't have to make a trip to four different places that night), and Tina bounced excitedly.

"Do you have the day off Blondie?"

"If I say yes is it going to end badly?"

"Never."

"So yes?"

"I have my camera."

And just like that, the world made sense.

Tina had always been a photographer at heart and years ago Allison had become her favorite subject.

"No."

"You don't have the day off? Well, we'll make it a short photo shoot."

"I do have the day off. But I'm tired."

"James, want to drop us off at the park by Blondie's house?"

"Jimmy, if you know what's good for you, you'll take us back to my apartment. And then leave so that I can kill Tina with no witnesses."

James laughed. "What if I take you to the park and stay there?"

Tina wrapped an arm around her cousin. "_Pllleaasee?_" She cajoled. "I'll love you forever."

"You already love me forever."

"I'll buy you breakfast at Alice's."

"We get fed for free." House watched the friendly banter with amusement.

"I'll buy drinks the next time we go out."

"Next two times."

"God you're a pain in the ass."

"Keep it up and it'll be three times." Allison warned her.

"Two times." They shook on it. And Wilson turned left instead of right at the next light to bring them to the abandoned park. The sun was just peeking over the horizon, and the snow was sticking to the ground giving the whole place a magical, mystical feeling.

"Okay, everyone out." Tina was rummaging through her bag for her camera.

"Everyone?" House repeated.

"Hell yeah. I have three subjects now, instead of one. Get out."

House rolled his eyes. "No."

"Yes."

"Are you going to buy me drinks too?"

"You can come with us," she replied dryly, "now get out before I drag you out."

Wilson walked over to the side of the car, and pulled House out.

"Cameron said that she'll make us coffee if we go take some pictures."

House pumped a fist in the air. 'Just don't expect me to smile."

Tina ignored him.

"Allie, you know what to do."

Cameron sighed, and hiked over to the swings. "Can't we just do action shoots? I don't want to pose."

"We won't be here for very long." It was four and the sun was just beginning to rise. The light drifting snow at a deserted playground, the world still untouched at that hour created a beautiful picture.

Allison made it to the swings, but continued until she reached a slide, where she proceeded to climb a ladder and slide down it, ending up sitting on the ground with a smile.

Tina rolled her eyes and snapped a picture.

"Tell me when you get cold." She directed over to House and Wilson.

"What about Allison?" Wilson asked, completely missing Houses' glare at the use of her first name. Tina didn't and she smirked.

"Blondie doesn't get cold."

House was cut off from commenting by Cameron's impatient voice. "Guys! We don't have all night!"

"It's day now." Tina pointed out, raising her camera and getting a shot of Wilson and House.

"Tina if you want me to be here," Allison warned.

"Yeah, yeah."

"I'm totally not against walking home."

"But you love me to much!"

"No, not really." The two teased each other mercilessly as Tina arranged them in various poses and allowed Cameron a few 'fun poses.' Jumping off the swing and spinning around in circles.

House was amused by the childishness of it all, but Tina seemed to have seen it all before. She posed them easily and even got a few small smiles from House. By the time that the pictures were finally done with snow was falling in thick drifts and it had been over an hour of pictures.

**

* * *

**

They had protested, but Allison was insistent,

"Tina and I can share a room, one of you can take the couch – it's a pull out and one of you can take the spare bedroom/office futon. It's ridiculous weather to drive in though."

She had disappeared into her bedroom to change, and had come out to make all of them hot chocolate/coffee/tea.

Allison stepped out of the room, and trekked to the kitchen where everyone else was sitting. Tina had also changed into comfier clothes, and Cameron had found some older men's clothes that she would give House and Wilson to change into – her brothers were always forgetting clothes when they crashed with her. She usually just kept them for either when they stayed again or as comfortable sleep clothes.

House was watching her, contemplating her. It was only after Tina made a face that Allison realized what shirt she was wearing. Ian had made one for her, as well as himself years ago, a personal gag gift that no one else found funny.

It was a white jersey, with black three quarter length sleeves. On the front, dripping in maroon red were the words_ damaged at best, like you already figured out. _The back read _AJ Foster_ (the last name the kids in her first group home had given her, seeing as she didn't have one) and the number _24_. The number of foster homes and group homes she stayed at before the Cameron's had adopted her. In the bottom, spiraling around in a circle were the words: O_ne out of seven children are abused. Seven out of seven never deserved it._

Ian's t-shirt was the same, except on the back it read _Ian Smith, 12_.

House, she could tell, was unable to form words. Who, in their right mind, wore a shirt with the words _damaged at best, like you already figured out_ on it? He hadn't yet seen the back, but probably wouldn't make a connection to her. _AJ_ was her name after all, but _Foster_ wasn't. And House, in all reality, never met the girl she used to be. The hard-ass AJ Foster with black eyes and broken bones – the one who barely felt pain – she was no longer there.

Maybe somewhere, hidden, but not on the surface. Not anywhere that House could see.

The damage was already done, so to speak, and Cameron moved on with her routine of drink making. If she went and changed her t-shirt, it would have just raised more questions. Ones that she wasn't willing to answer.

**

* * *

**

Cameron woke up later that day, unable to sleep. It was Sunday, and the other three people occupying her apartment were sleeping. At least Tina was – she was spread across the bed, a foot here, an arm there and all the blankets on her side of the bed.

_This,_ Cameron remembered, was why when there was family reunions and not enough room for people to get their own beds, she refused to share with her cousin. Give her Nikki who snored and talked in her sleep any day.

If it was a normal night of sleeplessness she would go for a jog – which was out because one, she was tired, two, Tina would give her hell, and three, the recent snow made it a bit dangerous.

Any other time she would curl up with a good movie, or go through photo albums of hers. And usually the _I survived that_ would help her drift into a more peaceful sleep.

Her albums were in the office though, where House was slee-

Cameron sat up in bed. If she hadn't been awake then, she was certainly awake now. _House _was in the same room as her memories. Some of her oldest secrets. Ones she wasn't ready to share.

She grew up in a world where no one remembered her name.

Sunshine and butterflies did not exist. It hurt, and it was hard. She could have never been a stuffed animal made by grandma, because she did not, in fact, have a grandma.

House never seemed to realize that fact. That her life was not perfect. That she had not grown up a golden child, because she had not had someone to be golden _for._ With a sigh Cameron flopped back down on her bed and closed her eyes.

Sleep was never going to come, but she didn't really have anywhere to hide out.

_Just wait for it to pass…._ She coached herself silently.

Cameron stayed wide eyed and awake for the rest of the night.

**

* * *

**

House limped into Alice's two days later and walked back into the kitchen to find her, ignoring the sign that blatantly read _please seat yourself, someone will be along shortly._ A sign under that stated _unless you work here please do not enter the kitchen area._

He now knew that it had been added specifically for Tina and Allison, who , apparently had no self control when it came down to serving themselves when it was busy.

"Alice!" She lifted her head and smirked at House.

"Can I help you?"

"We had a sleepover the other night," House fluttered his eyelashes for effect "and I was searching the house and came across some pictures."

"Of course you did," Alice muttered. "Allie would've been too nice to make you sleep on the couch." She straightened completely and put the spatula she was holding down. "Well, that's to bad Dr. House. I don't have anything to say about any pictures."

"There were legal documents," House persisted. "Evidence of abuse. No charges were filed, but there were pictures. And a crime scene." He hadn't been able to look at the pictures, because the sight of a little dead boy lying on the floor - eyes glazed open had been harsh, even for him.

"Is nothing sacred?" Alice picked up the spatula and was now advancing towards him mouth; set in a thin line.

"I couldn't look at them," House admitted. "I don't like seeing dead children, no matter how much of a heartless bastard people say I am."

"That was Jacob, Dr. House. And no charges were filed because there was no one still alive to file charges against, except for maybe the state or social workers. Now, please remove yourself from my kitchen, or can't you read that signs?"

House retreated immediately.

**

* * *

**

Cameron rubbed an eye and called out the next name. The ER was slower than usual today, and she was still not caught up on sleep. The man that stumbled his way over to her with his friend supporting him was obviously drunk. The friend held a cloth to his arm.

Cameron sat him down and gently removed the dish towel from a deep wound in his arm that immediately reopened and started bleeding.

"What happened?" She asked, picking up the file to take notes.

"Bar fight." The friend replied shortly. "Peter's a bit of a friendly drunk. He grabbed some chicks ass, and her boyfriend _lost it_." The two couldn't have been more then twenty five and Cameron held in her sigh.

"It's going to need stitches."

"Dude it's like gushing blood! He's going to have an awesome scar!"

"What exactly did he cut his arm on?"

"Some shit in the bar." Cameron checked the file again. Lovely. He was going to need a tetanus shot.

"I'll be right back." She disappeared to get the appropriate supplies, and when she returned was surprised to find Peter and his friend – whose name she learned was Jared, facing off.

"Dude, you need to get this stitched up." What happened next would always remain a bit of a haze to Cameron. From other people she would later hear that Peter lashed out grabbed her by the arms and slammed her head into the wall before security could apprehend him.

Tina had picked her up later that night, cursing darkly. Besides a concussion and some bruises that were already appearing on her upper arms she was fine. Tina didn't see it that way, but she reluctantly allowed her cousin to swear her to secrecy as well as the nurses.

The night shift was skeleton for the most part, and the nurses that were there were some of the older ones who had grown to really like and appreciate Cameron. And that was how House and Wilson never learned of her escapades in the ER.

* * *

The phone rang and Cameron cursed as she almost stabbed herself in the eye with mascara.

"Hello?"

"Blondie?" There was relief in her voice. "It's Tina."

"I figured."

"I ran into a bit of a problem." Tonight Tina was fulfilling her promise of drinks for the pictures.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing really." Tina sighed. "Remember how I was in Philly today?"

"Yeah…"

"Well, I got a flat, and there's a snow storm coming in. I'm just crashing at a hotel."

"Okay." Allison sighed. "Just try and stay safe. Is there anything you need me to do?"

"Go out with House and Jimmy and have a good time. We'll get together next week."

"Fine. I'll talk to you later, Tina. Love you."

"Love you too."

**

* * *

**

House was sitting on the couch playing his Wii Sport when his phone rang.

_Jimmy Boy Wonder,_ House mused, before he picked it up.

"Yeah?"

"I'm going to have to take a rain check on tonight." Wilson's voice was completely apologetic. "One of my patients was just readmitted, and I have to run some tests and talk to them."

"Have a lackey do it."

"I'd rather not. Just go out with Tina and Allison. And be nice."

"I'm always nice Jimmy-Boy."

"Don't hurt her." His voice was serious. "She's breakable, and I don't want to have to glue the pieces of her back together after you're done House."

"So, first you're afraid that she'll break me, and now you're afraid I'll break her?" House's lips twitched in amusement. "We're not even going on a date, _mom_. Tina will be there to make sure that we don't engage in any inappropriateness. I promise to keep everything above the waist line for tonight."

Wilson sighed and chose to ignore his second comment. "I was afraid of her hurting you, that night, even if I think that you're a big boy. Allison is more vulnerable. She's to trusting sometimes. I don't want to see her getting hurt again."

"_Again_?"

"You don't know half of it."

"That's right." Houses' voice was low. "Because no one will tell me a GOD DAMN THING and I'm sick of it."

"She doesn't think that you've earned the right to learn those things about her House. I'll see you later. Give the girls my regrets. Good-bye."


	11. Chapter 11

Next chapter for a little while. Happy Holidays!

Jess

* * *

**Chapter 11: Another Non-Date and Scars**

Wilson had been named designated driver that evening, but because he had cancelled, House stopped at Cameron's first. He had no idea where Tina lived. She appeared a few moments later and smiled before climbing into the car.

"Hello House."

"Cameron." She climbed into the front seat and raised an eyebrow.

"Where's Jimmy?"

"He had to cancel. Patient. How do I get to your cousin's house?"

Cameron sighed. "Tina's stuck in Philly with a flat tire and a nasty snow storm." Then she paused before sighing again and adding in an exasperated eye roll. "I take that back. We were set up."

House merely raised an eyebrow as he headed towards the bar and restaurant they had picked last week.

"And how do you know that?"

"Because she told me that she was going to visit her friends Leo and Karen in Philly. They moved a month ago to Arizona when Leo's company transferred him. And I'm guessing Wilson doesn't have a patient."

"We have very obnoxious friends," House snorted.

"Well, there is good news."

"Which is?"

"Tina left one of her credit cards at my apartment after the pictures – she has one that she likes to use when going out for drinks and I'm more likely to remember it then she is, so she gave it to me." Cameron reached into her purse, pulled out her wallet and showed him the card. "Whatever we want tonight – it's on Tina."

House chuckled.

"Sneaky."

Cameron shrugged. "Nope. She gave me the card because we were going out for drinks and she didn't want to forget it. It's not my fault that she got a 'flat tire' and missed out on drinks and dinner."

**

* * *

**

"Do you think that it will work?" Wilson asked. Tina took a sip of the beer in her hand and shrugged. "Who knows what's in store for those crazy kids?"

"You make it sound like the opening of a book or movie," Wilson accused, eyes dancing with laughter.

"I think that they could be some form of dramatic movie. Or maybe a comedy instead." Tina's phone beeped and she picked it up.

_Nice Xtina. I hope you and Jimmy are having fun right now you liar._

"Well, Dr. Wilson, it seems we've been found out."

"Really?"

"Yeah." Tina texted back _should I be worried babe?_

"What are we going to do?"

"Nothing, she knows. She probably told House. I'm not going to deny it. If setting them up is all that it takes to knock some sense into them, I'll do it."

_Don't worry. House will behave. And by the way, you're paying._

_Thanks for the heads up Blondie. And will you be behaving?_

"I'm a bit worried about Allie," Wilson confessed. "House can be a bit of an asshole."

Tina snapped her phone shut. "Well, Blondie can too. She's almost always been able to hold her own in the verbal sparing, and I should hope that House would never hit her." Tina's eyes darkened at the thought. "If he hits her, he won't live to see his next birthday."

"Houses' dad wasn't exactly the… nicest man." Wilson rested his chin in his hands. "A few years ago – before Cameron started working with him, they had a case where the husband was abusive. House told me that one thing that his father ever got right was that a man who raised a hand to a woman wasn't a man at all. I don't think you have to worry. And Allison can hold her own."

_Probably not Xtina, love you_

Tina chuckled as she put her phone away. So Blondie wanted to play dirty? The chances of that actually happening were slim, but the thought was funny.

"You're right about that, James. She certainly can hold her own."

**

* * *

**

"So, is this another non-date? We seem to do better with those." Cameron's voice was dry as House finally parked his car.

"Let's just call it dinner and drinks. Non-date that is dinner and drinks is just more of a mouthful. Besides, I trust that this time you're not going to go around telling everyone."

Cameron didn't respond, just stepped out of the car before replying quietly, "I learned my lesson, House."

He felt a bit of shame at the sadness in her voice. The dinner had turned into a confrontation – something he had not wanted nor expected. He could blame her for the question, but the response was all his fault.

She seemed as uncomfortable as he did as they walked into the restaurant. At least he wasn't the only one that was struggling with this.

**

* * *

**

Dinner had arrived quickly as both had ordered burgers, fries and beers. As much as Cameron had joked about using Tina's credit card, she wasn't feeling very hungry. If this ended badly maybe she would take the card and go shopping.

They had spent the beginning of dinner awkwardly stealing glances at each other before ordering. The waitress had put them in a back secluded corner, thinking that they were on a date and would want privacy. Without Tina or Jimmy there to act as buffers, they were lost.

Cameron had finally stared at House and started giggling.

"What?" He could feel a smile tugging at the corner of his lips, even though he had no idea what was so funny.

Cameron continued to giggle. "We -" She finally gasped out. "– we worked together for _four years_ -" House still didn't get it as she dissolved once again into laughter, her face turning a reddish color. "It shouldn't be this awkward," Cameron finally managed and House couldn't help but smile.

_That_ was true. Even if their relationship had always been definable by the word 'weird', it didn't mean that they would always have to have meals full of holes and tense silences.

Cameron's laughter seemed to break the ice and dinner began to go smoother.

**

* * *

**

Cameron was leaning forward, the light casting a rosy glow to her face as she waved her arms for emphasis.

Liquid courage had been with them, so it was safe to say that both were at least a little tipsy. Cameron was in the middle of telling House about her youngest brother Teddy Cameron – the wild child of the bunch – when he spotted them.

Although it was December, almost January, the bar was toasty warm and Cameron had removed her jacket and rolled up her sleeves. At first he thought it was a trick of light, but upon a bit of closer examination realized that the marks on her arms were bruises. And not only bruises – handprints no less.

Without thinking he grabbed her arm to get a closer look at the marks.

Cameron flinched visibly and tugged her arm back to her side. House froze for a minute before gently reaching back across the table, in a slower more determined move and grabbed her arm again so he examine it.

"You're afraid of me?" Someone had grabbed her, House realized, grabbed her _hard. _And, House realized in something akin to shock; _he was pissed._

"No. Not of you." He was still looking at her though, questioningly, with _that look_ on his face. The _you're a puzzle and I'm going to solve you _face. She sighed. God, why did this have to be so hard? "I'm sorry House."

"Because you're afraid of me?" there seemed to be a bit of a smirk in his voice, which was good.

"I got in a bit of a tussle with one of the patients, that's where the bruises came from." Cameron offered, instead of replying to his question.

"How did we not know?" The 'we' pleased Cameron, secretly. House was part of their little group, even if he had joined later.

"Made Tina promise not to tell. And the night nurses like me to much to go around clucking to the others about 'poor Dr. Cameron's concussion and bruises after the patient lost it'."

The moment the words escaped her lips she knew she was screwed. House let go of her arm and stood up he walked so he was standing in front of her. Cameron hastily stood up as well. She didn't like feeling towered over.

"You had a _concussion_?" Shit. Scratch screwed. She was dead, if the look on his face was any indication.

"A mild one. Nothing to worry about."

"So," House picked up her arm. He knew he was overreacting, but he couldn't help it. "You have bruises up and down your arms, and a _mild_ concussion. But you're fine. Anything else that I should know about?"

It was so easy. And the words just slipped out.

"I have a bullet wound in my thigh from when my foster dad shot me. I have scars on my back from when I got beaten." She held up her right arm and showed him a thin white scar that went from wrist to elbow that was barely visible. "I stayed with a crazy lady who thought that she could 'bleed' the bad out of me."

She put a leg on the chair as she pulled up her pant leg to show him a set of scars around her ankle. "A couple had a dog who didn't like me. We got in a fight. The dog won. I have more." The inside of her knee. "A hot poker from the fire, but I don't remember why." She was lifting her shirt ever so slightly to show the one on her inner hip, below her underwear line that few people had ever seen, when House grabbed her arm. It was only then that she realized he looked paler then she had ever seen him.

And then: a hand crashing down onto the table, a plate flipping over and onto the floor with a sickening _crash _and other people looking over at the sound of breaking glass. A harsh, yet low, 'damn it Cameron' and three strides to where she stood, because she had slowly backed away, eyes wide, ever so slightly scared. A hand tightly gripping her wrist, the other reaching for the back of her neck even as the cane hit the ground. And then there was a kiss, not short and sweet, but harsh and needy with lots of tongue and whisker burn across her cheeks. The sound of applause from the people at the bar who could see them and Cameron hadn't felt so _alive _in so long.

There would be bruises later. Bruises on top of bruises on top of scars that were inside and outside.

"Damn it Cameron," he repeated against her lips, before pulling away, bending down painfully to pick up his cane and leaving her standing alone in shock with half the restaurant staring at her.

**

* * *

**

She had to call Tina for a ride, because she didn't know what else to do. A cab would've worked too, but Tina was free – except for the grilling that she would get from her cousin. But, that, would've happened no matter what day or time Allison called.

So when Tina pulled up, sans Wilson, Cameron had to admit that she wasn't surprised.

"Did you send him to go do damage control on the other side?" Cameron cracked with a knowing smirk. Tina didn't say anything for a minute.

"What happened?"

"He saw the bruises on my arm and then I mentioned my concussion. He asked if there was anything else he should know about. So, I told him." Tina groaned. She knew her cousin had said that she probably wouldn't behave, but she hadn't expected _that_.

She knew the rest of the story. Allison had done the same thing to three other people. Ian, herself and Raymond. Ian hadn't flinched, instead pulling up his shirt and showing her various scars of his own. Tina had been too shocked to say anything, instead pulling her thirteen year old new cousin into her arms and hugging her tightly, even as Allison flinched at the physical contact. And Raymond – well, Raymond had been wallowing because he was dying. Not that he didn't have the right to wallow, but he lost that right when he started taking all of his anger out on Allison. So she had lost it and shown him her scars. He had proposed. And the rest, as they said, was history.

"Start at the top," Tina commanded as she pulled out and heading towards Alice's. She was going to need some help with this.

**

* * *

**

Wilson was at a bit of a loss and he was the first to admit it. House usually fled scenes and then the next day told Wilson about them at the hospital or Wilson grilled House at the hospital. It was the way things worked.

So, Wilson headed towards the first place he could think of. There was one person in town that knew all four of them and could maybe give him some insight onto the mind of House.

**

* * *

**

He had to get out of there. Allison Cameron, innocent, naive, over-caring, teddy bear heart, had just taken all of his ideas and shredded them into little pieces.

His father had helped turn him into the man that he was today. His leg had only added fuel to the fire and an excuse.

And then there she was. Little Miss Allison Cameron. Showing him her scars and smiling at him.

_I got this one here, and that one there, but I'm okay._

There was a story behind each and every mark on Allison Jane Cameron's body. And it seemed that she had more then he did.

There was one person beside Tina that was close by, one who knew Cameron and had known her for years.

House sighed and shifted gears as he sped towards some answers and some coffee.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12: The Past, The Present, The Future**

Alice was used to people barging in on her restaurant right before closing. So when she began to wipe down tables and the door jingled open, she just shook her head and turned to greet her late night customer.

House stared at her, eyes wide and almost confused.

"You look like you need a drink." Alice disappeared into the back and returned with the freshly made batch of coffee that she had started a little while ago. A shot of brandy and she handed it to House.

He took it gratefully and hobbled over to a chair, sitting down and letting his shoulders slump.

"Do I want to know?"

"Cameron – she showed me some of her scars." He used some because there were more – that at least he was sure of.

"Oh." Alice offered him the bottle of brandy. "I assume you weren't expecting that?"

"I knew she was _broken_. I just didn't think she was as broken as me."

"An oddly sentimental statement from the misanthropic doctor."

"We'd been drinking already." Alice nodded in understanding.

"Am I to guess that you got scared and ran?"

"I_ kissed _her for god sake. In the middle of the restaurant. What else was I supposed to do?"

Alice sighed.

"Why is it that men are so stupid?"

"That's rhetorical, right?" House questioned back. "Men are pigs. And they will never grow up. Or something to that extent."

"Allie was opening up to you. Maybe not at the best time or place, but she was testing you."

"And let me guess. I failed."

"Maybe. Maybe not. Raymond didn't act to well either."

"Raymond?"

"Allie's husband."

House nodded. "The dead one."

Alice frowned at him. "Yes."

"What did he do?"

"Proposed."

"Was that what I was supposed to do? Pop the question?"

"If you had she would've smacked you. As it was Ray received a death glare until it turned out that he was serious. She said no. But he just kept pushing and _pushing. _Finally Allie said yes. She wasn't ready to get married, but it was a dying mans last request. And she loved him to much to turn that down."

_She hadn't wanted to get married?_ House didn't know what to say to that. Wasn't marriage every little girl's dream? Although, he was finding out that Allison Jane hadn't been like most other girls. That was probably because she hadn't grown up in an environment that fostered those kinds of thoughts. From the scars he had seen, the houses that she had been in hadn't been happy ones.

"Well, what was I supposed to do then apologize? Start having sex on top of the table?"

"Or sit down and finish eating?" Wilson's voice was dry. "The apology would've come across wrong and I think that you would've been arrested for public indecency. I could use some of that brandy you're holding, if you're offering, Alice."

"And sitting down and finishing eating is better then apologizing, how?" House questioned.

"Well, at least that way you weren't running scared."

"Thanks Wilson. I can see that your three marriages have really been helpful in understanding what women want." Alice ignored both of them.

"Tina went to go get AJ, and sent you to do damage control?" Alice went to go get another cup of coffee and Wilson followed. "You think that after all these years the girl would learn not to meddle."

"It's what she does Alice." Cameron's voice sounded as the door opened.

James appeared back at the table a moment later, holding two cups of coffee while Alice carried a third. He met Allison's eyes hesitantly. She shrugged one shoulder and scrunched up her nose.

Tina meddled, Jimmy meddled. It was what they did and she had long ago accepted it as a fact. It didn't mean she liked it, it just meant that it was a fact.

"I love you," Wilson teased sweetly, trying to draw out a smile.

"No you don't, I hate you." House was watching her as she pouted childishly and Wilson laughed.

"Okay Allie, if you say so."

"I do. And I know all."

"Psychic again?" Tina mused.

"Yep."

"What am I thinking?" Tina had grabbed a piece of paper and scribbled down five questions. Allison smirked.

"Comb, moon, orange, no way and go to hell." Wilson leaned over and scanned the list of questions that Tina wrote. He smiled, amused when all of the answers made sense.

"And how long have you been pulling that trick?" House finally found his voice.

It was Tina who replied, as Allison was studiously not looking at him. "Years. Party tricks for the younger cousins." She leaned over and pulled a quarter out of Houses' ear with a smirk.

"Must be weird at family reunions."

"It's always weird at family reunions. But that's just because we're weird."

"Thanks Tina." Cameron was holding her coffee in her hands, but didn't take a sip. She set it down instead and disappeared into the back. Tina stared pointedly at Greg until he sighed, stood up and shuffled back into the kitchen.

These conversations usually involved him putting his foot in his mouth and someone who wasn't him in tears. Always. No matter the person the situation never changed.

**

* * *

**"I'm not good at this," he stated, watching her. When she turned around, House was surprised. Cameron's face was completely dry.

"I didn't come back here to talk House. You suck at talking. But I wanted hot chocolate instead of coffee."

House raised an eyebrow. Coffee was good, alcohol was better and even tea would have been acceptable. But, _hot chocolate_?

"It's something that I used to do for Jake. Something my first foster parents did for me. And later on something my mom did. It's a comfort drink."

"When did your mom die?"

Cameron blinked at him. "My mother is very much alive right now, and I beg you not to jinx that, thank you very much." To make her point clear she leaned over and knocked on the wooden counter top.

"On our – date – you said that the earrings you were wearing were your mothers – I just _assumed_ -"

"The earrings I was wearing were a gift from my birth mother before I was taken away and put up for adoption. I was – I am told – with her for a grand total of fifteen minutes. My first social worker put them in a lock box to be given to me when I turned eighteen. It's all I have left of her. And even though I never want anything to do with the woman who gave birth to me, they do have a sentimental value. They're the one thing that I have from my childhood."

"So when I asked you about your earrings…."

"What was I supposed to say? Thank you, I'm glad that you like them, they're the only thing I have of my birth mothers and in turn the only thing I have from my childhood. It was _not_ a conversation I wanted to have with you. It's not a conversation I want to have with you now."

"Then why'd you even bring it up?"

"I didn't. You asked when my mother died. And my mother, one of the few people in my life who loves and cares about me, and loved and cared about me before I even _acknowledged_ that people could love has the right to be known as alive. Also, I don't want the misconception that the woman who gave me up was also the one who raised me."

"Have you ever had any contact with your birth mother?" House couldn't help but by surprised by the raw anger in her tone. Allison Cameron loved everyone.

"Never. All I know is that her name is Cynthia. Her initials are CAJ, which is why my name is Allison Jane."

"Funny that yours ended up being AJC."

Cameron's mouth twisted up awkwardly. "If that's the way you want to phrase it, go right ahead. But, I don't really think that there's anything funny about it."

The tea kettle whistled and Cameron turned to tend to it, studiously ignoring House once again.

She pulled out hot chocolate mix, marshmallows, whipped cream, milk and a blue and white snowman mug from a cabinet and set it on the table.

"Is that all you have to say?"

Cameron mixed her concoction together and stared at him. "What else is there?"

"I kissed you."

"Today is a day that ends in the letter 'y'."

"Actually, I kissed you twice."

"The United States has 50 states."

"Why aren't you reacting?"

"Why are you asking me stupid questions?" Cameron replied without skipping a beat. She took a dainty sip of her hot chocolate. "I thought we were just having a state the obvious contest. I know you kissed me. Twice. You know I know. I know you know I know you know. Or something like that. What I want to know is why we're still talking about it?"

"What if I wanted to do it again?"

"And why would you want that House? The first time you wanted me to come back without the needle. The second time you left."

"Maybe third time is the charm."

"I don't think so. Not tonight anyway."

"Isn't tonight a perfect time?" He was advancing on her again and Cameron turned to stare at him, the word 'don't' on her lips.

"I'm not going to kiss you House. But I will tell you something." He paused in his advance and cocked his head to the side, waiting.

Cameron grabbed another cup and made hot chocolate for House as well as he impatiently tapped his cane.

"I met Jacob when I was six. He was two. We were being fostered by the Stevenson's. I walked into the house with my social worker and Jacob streaked by butt naked and screaming at the top of his lungs. He crashed right into me. I picked him up – and he just stopped and looked at me. They joked it was love at first sight. After that we were inseparable. Every foster home we went into, we went into together. And if we didn't there was hell. I was the only one who could Jake to fall asleep. I used to sing 'Hey Jude' to him, using his name every night. I was the only way he would go to bed." Her face the night of the white tie auction suddenly flashed through his mind, and the reaming that she had gotten from Cuddy was no longer as funny as it had been. "When I was eight and Jake was four we were placed with Ron and Linda. The abuse was extreme, but we were the type of kids who fell through the cracks. It went on for two years." Her hands were shaking and tears were falling. There was a catch in her throat. House didn't know what to do. "Ron called us down one night – wasted. I thought that we might be able to wait until he passed out, but he was insistent that we come downstairs."

He knew that he didn't want to hear the ending to this story. Because there was no happy ending. That at least he was sure of. Cameron handed him the hot chocolate and took a sip of hers, not flinching when it burned her throat on the way down.

"Ron had pulled out his gun. But I thought that he was just threatening us, like he always did." Years of therapy had convinced her that not getting Jake out of the way in time wasn't her fault, but when she re-told the story (which was very seldom) there was always a trace of disgust. She couldn't help it. "He shot me once in the leg, and he shot Jake four times. It was the second bullet that killed him. Linda was killed as well before Ron killed himself." A sob made its way out from deep in her throat. "I survived for some reason. I don't know why…." She trailed off and shook her head.

"I went from home to home after that for three years, and went back almost immediately after each one. No one could control me. Then, they placed me in a home, and the mom – well, she tried to touch me. One of the younger kids called DCFS because I was screaming bloody murder. They removed all of the kids immediately, because it wasn't the first complaint. I wasn't doing well in group homes at all – the older kids were torturing me because I was so small for my age but had such an attitude. They did an emergency placement of me with a new couple who had only fostered a few times. It wasn't supposed to stick, I was supposed to leave as soon as they found a different home. I walked into the Cameron's house and Heather was waiting for me with Teddy balanced on her hip. He stared at me – he was only three – and asked why I had bwue hail."

Cameron paused to take a deep breath and then stopped. She had just spilled a very small but very important portion of her life story to House. And for some reason he was still standing in the kitchen with her.

"What'd you say?"

"What?"

"When your brother asked why you had bwue hail – which I'm assuming is blue hair?"

Cameron couldn't help the small noise that escaped her throat. It was somewhere between a sob, a snort, and a laugh. "I burst into tears and Ross walked into the foyer in his pajamas, having just been woken up to come and greet me into his home, and just held out his arms. I don't know why I did, to this day, but I ran into them and hugged him. I hadn't voluntarily let anyone hug me since Jake died in my arms. My social worker about kneeled over and had a heart attack. Whenever anyone touched me I screamed bloody murder whether it was gentle or not. I still jump when someone grabs me unexpectedly."

House nodded. He had seen the look on her face when he held her arm in his hands. "And your back?"

"My back?"

"The first time Wilson and I stayed at your apartment. You had old scars on your back. Most from a thin belt or a horse whip." Cameron's' face still showed mistrust, so House set down his hot chocolate. He shrugged off three layers of shirts and turned his back to her. The lines that she had been so used to seeing on her back were mirrored on his. There was no gasp from her, just a muffled sigh of someone who had felt the same pain, and a gentle, but icy cold hand, on his back.

"My father's second favorite form of discipline was a good whipping."

"And the first?"

"Outside in the winter, no food, little clothes."

Cameron mimicked House, and stripped off her shirt, sweatshirt and coat as well, until she was standing in just her bra. House got a better look at her back before she held up her hands and House looked closely, noting all the scars on her hands that he had never gotten close enough to see.

"Ron was fond of the hands over the stove method. As well as the feet. And any other body parts. He burned almost all of my hair off once."

House used a gentle finger to trace the scar that was on her heart line – the one that Tina matched.

A slight turn and House was pointing at a scar on the back of his neck, right to the left of the top of his spine. It was a thin white line that traced up to his ear.

"Beer bottle at the head when I was eight."

Cameron smiled and turned, lifting her hair to show a scar lower then his, almost on her shoulder. "Wine bottle at the back when I was nine. I'm pretty sure he was aiming for my head, but when you're drunk – well, it doesn't always work out that way."

House sat down and lifted his leg onto a chair with a grimace. He rolled up his pant leg until his shin was visible. "Dogs at the base camps weren't to be played with. Or so my dad told me, but he watched as one of them lost it on me. Waited until I got bit before he stepped in to stop them."

"You saw my dog scars already," Cameron replied. She bent to grab her shirt, but House gently stopped her. His hand spun her gently around and took note of the mess that was her back.

"That night at the benefit-" he trailed off and shook his head.

Cameron craned her neck to look at him. "What?"

"Your back didn't look like it does now."

"The lights were dimmer most of the night. I had Tina come over and work some make-up magic. Not a lot, because these kind of scars are almost impossible to hide. But, with a few tricks, some glitter to make me sparkle a tad and the lights, anyone who saw it thought it was a trick of light or they had had too much to drink."

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why'd you cover up your scars?"

"Why won't you let anyone see your leg?" It seemed rhetorical, because Cameron answered herself. "Pity. I'm broken House, I'm broken and damaged and scared. And no matter how many times my mother told me that I _wasn't_ any of those things, I am. And I don't want people to feel bad for poor Dr. Cameron who went through the system and out a bloody mess. I'm not so good at deflecting with jokes, so I deflect by not telling people about my past."

'"And lying."

"When did I lie?" Cameron demanded.

"I asked you who abused you. You said that it wasn't fami-"

"Who said that I considered the people who beat me time and time again family?" Her voice was getting heated now.

House was about to ask her _what _she considered them, but Tina walked into the kitchen with Wilson and Alice.

"Children, please, keep your voices down if you're trying to have a private conversation. And put shirts on."

Cameron flushed slightly and pulled her shirt hastily over her head, while House took his time. Wilson had seen his back before, and he had no doubts that Tina and Alice had seen Cameron's. There was nothing for them to be surprised about. Everyone had scars.

"Can you two talk like civilized adults, or do you need a referee?" Alice asked in a patronizing tone.

"We're done talking Alice, it doesn't matter."

And this time it was Cameron who left House standing in the middle of a restaurant.


	13. Chapter 13

**So I should be studying for my chem final. But I decided to post this instead. Send good luck/go study! comments if you would like. They might help.**

**Jess**

ps - spoilers for Birthmarks

**

* * *

Chapter 13: An Update On The Other Characters and Hospital Gossip**

Cuddy watched carefully on Monday as Cameron entered the ER. One of the ER nurses – one known for not gossiping – had let her in on Cameron's injuries from a few nights ago with a casual '_just thought you should know_'.

And now Cuddy knew, and was watching for any signs of injury. But, besides looking tired and thin there was nothing for Cuddy to note.

A nurse went up to her and the two began talking, Cameron throwing her head back in laughter, but that was all.

Her pager went off and Cuddy glanced at the words _House 911_ from Wilson before sighing. She would catch Cameron later and discuss the fact that she had never felt the need to report the assault to anyone.

**

* * *

**Cuddy stepped into Wilson's office and was surprised to see him sitting there with a woman. He had paged her a 911 while with a patient?

Wilson let out a smile when he saw her. Things were still tense between them, but she was glad that his relationship with House had been repaired.

"House is going to need some time off." There was no time for niceties, Wilson had decided. Also, if he cut to the chase, their relationship was less strained seeming.

"Why?"

"Blythe called me. John died." Cuddy glanced at the patient, uncomfortable with talking about House in front of her.

The woman sensed this for she turned to Wilson with a grin.

"I'm going to go hijack Blondie's car so I'm on time. Tell House that if he damages my baby, I'll break his face. And he already has that coming anyone. So, actually, tell him he breaks my car, I break his leg. I'm already breaking his face."

Wilson let out the lightest bit of a snort. "He'd rather that then go to the funeral, T."

"Send him to Blondie then, or Alice. They're the good talkers. I'm the one with the one-liners and the magic tricks."

"And the really bad plans."

'T' laughed, a full, throw your head back, body convulsing laugh.

"That was all your idea Jimmy." Cuddy was watching them impatiently, and Tina caught it, for she smiled slightly before giving Wilson a quick hug around the waist.

"I'll talk to you later."

"Later," Wilson echoed, as he watched her leave. His attention returned to Cuddy when he could no longer see the woman. "John died, Blythe called." He repeated.

But Cuddy couldn't let go of what she just saw. "Patient?"

"Very good friend." Wilson replied. "We're friends right now. And she makes me laugh and smile. And no, she's not a patient; she's a cousin of a doctor."

"The one whose car she's going to steal?"

Wilson just smiled at her tone. "Something like that." Before any more questions could come, Tina skidded back into the room, breathless.

"I forgot." She was holding two envelopes in her hand. "One for you, and one for House. From that night with the storm." She tossed them to him and Wilson just barely caught them. He took the one that had his name on it and put it in his pocket. Houses' he left on the desk to presumably give to him later. "There's a really good one of the two of them in there, so please, feel free to corner him with it. That's what I'll be doing to AJ." And then without another word she was gone.

"Whose cousin?"

But Wilson evaded the question. He knew that the moment he breathed the name _Cameron_ she'd make assumptions. And while Cuddy had at one point been a dear friend, besides the whole House thing, he didn't want her to make the assumptions. Because then she'd feel the need to say something. And, at the moment, there was nothing to say. Except that they had gotten involved where they maybe shouldn't have, and were playing with fire.

"I think I'm going to the funeral as well, so I'm going to need some time off."

Cuddy nodded. "Blythe called you, not him?"

Wilson shrugged. "If she had called him he would've been out of the state and in hiding faster then you could blink. He has no desire to go to a funeral of a man he hates. We're going to need time off." Wilson smirked, he couldn't help it. "And some security guards to block the escape route."

Cuddy nodded, even though Wilson was joking. "Do you want me to wait in here, just in case? If he's in his office and you are too, this is the fastest escape for him."

Wilson wanted to point out that he could just lock the door from the balcony, but Cuddy was trying to be helpful, so he nodded.

He stood up from behind his desk "I'll go get him. We could always do something, where you try and get him to leave the hospital and I pick him up in a car and just start driving."

"He would recognize your car."

"I took Tina's in today, my car is dead. That's why she went to take her cousins." Wilson moved towards the door. "I might see you in a few. If not, I successfully corralled House and we are on our way to the funeral. Blythe called me before I made it to work, so I swung by and grabbed both of us appropriate clothes."

"How many days are you going to need off?"

"Two?" Wilson shrugged "Four at the most I think. I'll keep you updated. The funeral is tomorrow, so we have to _get _there first."

"Okay." Cuddy nodded. "Call me from the car then."

She waited until Wilson disappeared from sight until she grabbed the envelope that was for House and opened it.

**

* * *

**Cameron sighed and rested her head against the wall for a minute. Her break had been nice, her few days of extra sleep had been even nicer, but her date with House, while not having ended as disastrously as she had thought it would, was bad.

"Blondie!"

Use to hearing her cousins trill at the hospital now, Cameron looked up.

"What's up Tina? And in an extremely nice way, why are you here?"

Tina laughed. "Jimmy's car broke down, and I had to drive him here. And he needs my car, so I need yours."

"And what were you doing at Jimmy's place?"

Tina didn't even flinch. "I wasn't at his place. But I live closest out of me and you, so when he called and asked to borrow my car, I said yes."

Tina pulled Allison as far away as she could from the nurses and explained the situation in a hushed tone.

"So," she concluded brightly "can I have your keys?"

"They're in my locker, here." Cameron scrawled her combination and directions to the locker. "You're picking me up after work?"

"Yeah. How late is your shift?"

"Only until ten tonight."

"Sweet, let me know if anything changes."

"Okay. Have fun at school," Cameron teased, sounding just like a mother.

"Don't tease, I love my job. I'll catch you later."

**

* * *

**"House."

Wilson was standing in the door of his office, a frown on his face.

"Wilson," he deadpanned back. "What's up? The threesome isn't for a few more days. Unless you want some pointers." House wagged his eyebrows suggestively. Wilson let the chuckle bubble out of him before turning serious.

"Can I talk to you privately?" House followed obediently, but scowled.

"This better not be about the other night. Because the second part of that night was _so _he-"

"Greg."

He paused. "Now I'm concerned."

"You're mother called me this morning."

"Well, you're momma was at my apartment this morning, and she -"

"House!"

"Present." House raised his hand and settled into his office chair, picking up the red gray ball he kept there.

Wilson sighed. "As I was saying, Blythe called me this morning, you're father – House, I'm sorry. He's gone."

House stared blankly for a moment.

"He's _dead?_"

"Are you okay House? I know it's a lot to take in."

House shook his head and stood up. "I just never expected to outlive the bastard. I always thought of him as a cat with nine lives. When's the funeral? I'm assuming my mother called you first so I wouldn't cut and run?"

"Tomorrow. I'm going with you. We're driving."

"Can I have some time?"

"You're not allowed to cut and run."

"You can follow me if you want, you stalker." House hauled himself to his feet and took out his PSP. "Proof that I'll be back here soon."

Wilson knew he was serious, so he watched House leave the room before turning on the game. _Super Mario Brothers_. Perfect.

**

* * *

**Cuddy flipped through the pictures for a third time, and still couldn't contain her astonishment.

The pictures looked pretty professional from her point of view.

And some of them were just – _wow. _

There were about twenty five pictures in all most of House and Cameron. Cameron was 'Blondie' and that alone was shocking.

There were four pictures that Cuddy really liked. She knew that she shouldn't be snooping, but it was interesting, and she couldn't help it.

The first picture was of Cameron. She was staring at the camera, the softest hint of a smile on her face, a bit flushed from the weather.

The second was of the four of them. Cameron and House were sitting on a pair of lone swings, both seeming caught in mid-laugh. Wilson was laughing as well, one arm out, holding Tina's shoulder. The woman was slipping it seemed, but she was still turned towards the camera, a bright smile on her face. Cuddy guessed that she had been trying to get into the picture, but that the ice and snow had made it difficult. All four were soaked with snow and little white patches decorated them and the picture.

The third picture had House and Cameron. They were walking down the street, the lights hitting them just right. Houses' cane was in mid swing, and the lens was slightly blurry from the snow. So, while it appeared that Cameron was reaching for House's hand, you couldn't be sure.

And the fourth. Well, it clearly displayed what House and Cameron had together. She was sitting in the snow and House was sitting on a swing. He was using his cane to hold the swing steady and Cameron was looking up at him. He was amused; you could see it in the way his eyes crinkled. Cameron's hand was full of snow, and she had a bit of a gleam in her eyes. House was playfully pushing some hair out of her face.

Footsteps from the balcony startled her and she looked up to see Wilson standing there. "I knew I forgot those."

Cuddy was speechless, so she jumped on the defensive. "I didn't know House and Cameron were seeing each other."

Wilson merely plucked the photos from her hands and raised an eyebrow.

"They're not. House and I will be leaving shortly." And before Cuddy could get another word in edge wise, before she could wave the pictures at him and ask _well, then what do you call this?_ He was gone.

**

* * *

**"When Ron died, how did you feel?"

Cameron looked up to see House and sighed inwardly. She was suturing a little boy who had slipped and cut his chin open.

"Give me a minute." She smiled at him – another little boy who could've been Jake's twin. She still saw him everywhere she looked. After three more stitches, a lollipop, a hug from the little boy and a half filled chart, she turned to look up at House.

"Coffee?"

"I gave Wilson my PSP; I'm not leaving the hospital. And the cafeteria sucks."

"I'll make it. Your office?"

House nodded and Cameron called out to one of the nurses that she was taking fifteen minutes as she quickly finished the chart and signed her name with a flourish.

"Let's go."

* * *

Foreman set down his coffee and turned to Chase.

The two of them were extremely bored, both for some reason, having light case loads.

Chase was doing a crossword, feet propped on the table in the lounge and Foreman picked up the next copy of JAMA.

"If Cameron was here sorting House's mail it would be just like old times," Chase commented, not looking up from his crossword.

"You two are okay then?"

"We broke up almost ten months ago."

"I thought it was nine."

"Things were going downhill since the bus crash, really. It just took another month for us to call it quits."

Foreman nodded. "We should page her from the ER then, if you don't care."

Chase shook his head. "I don't, but I overhead the nurses talking. She was last seen going on break about two minutes ago with the one and only House."

"_House_?" Foreman was speechless. "_House_?"

Chase shrugged. "She loves him. No matter how much of an ass he is."

"And you're okay with that?"

"First of all Foreman, she's my ex-girlfriend. But before that, we were friends. So, if he makes her happy, then yes. I'm happy for her. Second off, I have a girlfriend. I love her. I don't have anything to be jealous of."

Foreman nodded in understanding and picked up the magazine again. He thought of all that had happened in the past months.

If Cameron was down there if would be like old times. Some of it. They were all still playing their parts, but Foreman had a feeling that life would be different. Somewhere along the line they had all grown up.

Chase wasn't just a daddy's boy. He was a caring man, a doctor who was good at what he did. Going strong in a relationship and confident in the OR, there was a sense of determination around him.

Foreman wasn't House. He had found out how not to be. In his second month of dating a woman that he had met while helping out at a homeless shelter (part of his plan to not be House) he was, while maybe not ecstatic, content with life.

And Cameron – well, she was less naïve. She still loved and lost and got hurt, but she had grown up in Foreman's eyes. She was older, more mature. And she was damn good at what she did.

Yes, Foreman mused, if she showed up right then, it would have been just like old times. The two of them teasing her and laughing about House, but there would be an undertone to it. The undertone of sibling fights and laughter, of trust that had been built and grown over years.

**

* * *

**Wilson could see how Cuddy mistook the pictures as a fact that Greg and Allison were in a relationship.

He hadn't looked through his pictures, but looking at the ones that were Houses, he had to say he was really impressed.

Tina was a great photographer. But, the picture that Cuddy had held up, the one that was _proof_ the two were in a relationship, wasn't the one that Tina had been referring to.

Anyone could smile and brush hair out of someone else face. The one Tina was talking about was one of the last pictures. Cameron had slipped on some ice, landing nicely on her butt in the cold weather.

House had hobbled over almost immediately, even as Cameron had stood up.

"_I'm fine House."_

"_Are you sure? You're holding your wrist funny."_

_Cameron looked at her arm, and realized that she was cradling it._

"_It doesn't feel like anything but a sprain at the biggest. I caught myself on it."_

"_Still."_

_House gestured towards a ledge that was around some trees. Using his cane he brushed some snow off._

"_Let me see."_

_Cameron sighed, but obliged and climbed onto the ledge._

_House leaned over and picked up her wrist, pushing up layers of fabric. Cameron had bent her head slightly down, to tell House that she was fine, and House had looked back up at her._

That was when the picture was taken. Tina had snapped a shot of the two of them and later made it black and white. It was the two of them, just looking at each other. She had cropped out the way that House was holding Cameron's arm. If Wilson hadn't known them the way that House was looking at Cameron with such affection would have made him sure that they were a couple in love.

Now, he wasn't so sure _what _they were.

* * *

The Ducklings 2.0 all gave her question looks when she walked in. Although they were 'friends' – 'frienimies' if she was in high school, that didn't mean that they hung out at work. He would maybe sit with her if she was having lunch with Wilson, but that was all.

"When Cam is here, you don't touch the pot." House pointed at the coffee pot. "Maybe eventually one of you will learn how to make this stuff."

"I'm not coming in to make you coffee."

"Pity coffee?" House offered. "For a while, until I get over my mourning stages?"

"What are you mourning?" Taub asked, with a raised brow. Cameron already knew, due to Tina, and House had blurted out _my dad is dead _on the elevator ride up.

"I have a heart, contrary to popular belief." House jabbed Cameron with his cane. "Tell them I have a heart."

"House, if you had a heart, a lot of the doctors in this hospital wouldn't be in counseling and the number of nurses would be higher. Everyone would be happier. So, no. No heart for you. And what you really want to do is throw a party."

"A party? Like a birthday party?" House paused, contemplating. "Do they have death-day parties?"

"I don't think so." Cameron shrugged. "But I never had a chance to celebrate."

Ducklings 2.0 were watching with interest. Cameron handed House his red mug and took a mug of her own before walking towards his office.

"Why didn't you celebrate?"

She waited until they were in his office with the door closed to reply. "I may have gotten rid of my abuser the day he killed himself, but Jake was gone and so was Linda. What did I have to celebrate?"

"You were alive."

"I didn't want to be." The confession was matter of fact, no flinch involved.

"But," House persisted, going back to his original question, "when Ron died how did you feel?"

Cameron sighed and then held back a snort. He wanted to talk about _feelings_? "I felt relief; there was a rock at the bottom of my stomach that lifted. But I can't tell you how to feel House, for multiple reasons. Our situations in some parts were similar, but you're a grown man and I was an abused ten year-old about to go back into the system. At least at Ron and Linda's I knew what to expect. The system was uncharted territory. "

It didn't matter how many scars they shared or how many bruises matched on the inside and the outside, their situations would never be the same.

"Is it wrong to be happy he's gone?"

"As wrong as it is to be sad. They're your own emotions House. I can't tell you how to feel."

"You've tried before." Cameron didn't react, but House pushed. "Do you like me? Do you? How do you feel about me?" He fluttered his eye lashes for effect, adopting a high, girly falsetto.

"Stop it House." Cameron's voice wavered. "Stop." _He's reacting because his dad died. Pretend it doesn't matter, chin up._

"What do you suggest then _Doctor_, if you won't talk to me?"

"To go lie on someone else's couch and ask them questions about how you should feel." Cameron replied, an edge to her voice. She wasn't going to let herself get mocked by him when she was trying to help.

Cameron set her coffee cup down on his table, sending coffee sloshing violently over the edge. It spilled down her arm, turning the white skin an increasingly bright red, but Cameron didn't notice. "I'm not your mother House, or your father for that matter. Go find Wilson and complain. But leave me the hell- what are you _doing_? Don't touch me." For House had strode over to her and was holding her arm.

"Jesus Christ Cameron, you spilled down your arm. You burned yourself."

"Oh," she replied. "Ouch."

"You didn't _feel_ that?"

Cameron shrugged. "Pain doesn't hurt. Not when it's all you've ever felt. Tina mentioned I don't get cold to you once. I don't really feel heat either. I trained my body when I was little. It still damages me, but I don't _feel_ the effects of hypothermia as much because my body was used to being kept outside for long periods of time. If it's hot enough or cold enough, then, yes, I'll feel it, and it will hurt. But that felt like I dipped my hand in hot water."

House shook his head, his early anger forgotten outweighed by concern. "You do realize this means I have to take you to clinic, right?"

"I can take myself."

"I'm the only competent doctor out here. I'll fix you up."

"What's the point of fixing me up? You already broke me. As long as I'm pretty enough to be art work I'm fine."

Her response was startling, but House didn't let go of her arm.

"Clinic. Now." He repeated, sounding so much like Cuddy that she didn't protest.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14: Shootings and Nightmares**

Cameron injured herself. A lot.

It wasn't on purpose, and it wasn't for attention. It was just the fact that years ago when she was a child, there were houses where no one took care of her. So she took care of herself. And while she was proud of herself for doing a damn good job, there were times when she slipped. There were times when she was a child and then there were the ones from when she was an adult.

Letting the patient cough blood on her.

Letting House get to her.

Sleeping with Chase.

The meth.

Foreman stealing her article.

Being stabbed with a tainted needle.

And more recently,

Letting the patient get close enough to attack her.

Going out with House. Been there, done that, she should've known that she would get hurt.

Letting Tina take pictures of the all of them.

Falling down (and getting back up.)

And now, because of her slip-ups, she was sitting in the clinic with House and her burned arm.

"These are definitely second degree," House muttered under his breath. He patted her hand with a washcloth of cool water. Their anger – their pointless anger, seemed to be forgotten now.

"House, its fine," she protested. "It's not even bad. I can take care of these. I'm sure you have work to do."

"Damn it Cameron! Let me do this." He scolded. "Besides, it counts as clinic time."

That got a snort from her. "Glad that I can be of assistance."

"Aren't you though?"

"Sure."

"Want to help me with something else?"

"Not particularly."

House ignored her. "Want to go to the funeral with me?"

"No. I can't help you with your problems House. I'm not going to be there as a buffer." House froze in dressing the wound. He hadn't expected that.

"Why not?"

"This is something you have to do on your own. You don't want me there anyway. I don't do funerals well. And I'm not going with you to play nice with some strangers for you."

"Why not? You love me." At this Cameron pulled her arm from his grasp.

"Let's get this clear House. I don't love you. I don't even _like_ you some days. I hate funerals. They make me think of my dead brother. My dead foster mother. And yes, they make me think of Ron. And I know for a fact that your father was in the military. Which means that they're going to fire guns. I hate guns."

"You were fine the day I got sh…"

"Stop." Her voice was deadly.

"You were _shot_ and bleeding on the floor. Ask Foreman. The moment they took you into surgery I had a breakdown. Managed to convince them that it was because I was worried for you, but called my brother a half hour later mid panic attack in a bathroom stall hyperventilating. I could still see Ron with the gun. Could feel the bullet going through my leg. Alice had to come to the hospital to make sure that I was semi-okay. I did a vigil by your bedside, because I wasn't going to lose another person I cared about to gun violence."

Her voice cracked and she sniffled, tears starting out of her eyes.

"Something I never got to do with Jake, because he was already dead. He was dead, and I was still alive. My dad stopped hunting because of me. He went once and a while, but every time he did I would freak out because I thought it was going to be the last time I saw him. So don't pull that House. I hate guns. I _cannot_ stand them. And I didn't know your father. Half the time you spend pushing me and driving me crazy. I'm not going to a funeral of a man that I don't know for someone who doesn't know when to stop pushing, unless you have a very good reason." Wound half dressed she stormed out of the clinic blinded by tears.

House sat down with a sigh. There was a real reason.

He had been having nightmares.

Nightmares where a young Cameron, adorably dressed up (because that was the only young picture he had ever seen of her) held an equally adorable child on her hip and the got shot to death, the song _Hey Jude_ on repeat in the background.

After she died she would morph into grown-up-Cameron where she would proceed to taunt him, that she was dead, and he never really loved her or he would have saved her.

Every night since she had told him in Alice's restaurant a week ago he had woken up in a cold sweat. It wasn't until the next day when he was able to see her in the ER that he would feel better. A few days with no Cameron would be hell on his mind.

Not that he could admit that to her. For all of his bravado, what she had told him had scared and startled him. _That night, _as he had started calling it in his mind, he had acted like her story hadn't affected him.

But he couldn't get the image of her out of his mind.

House stood up and left the clinic with determination. She _would _go to the funeral with him.

* * *

Cameron stopped running when from House when she reached Wilson's' office. She barged in without knocking and Wilson looked up from Houses' PSP, expression startled when he saw her.

"Al!" The nickname made her smile, albeit slightly. In the hospital they usually addressed each other as 'Dr. Cameron' and 'Dr. Wilson'.

"What happened?" He was already out of his seat and over to her.

"House wants me to go to the funeral with him."

"Okayyyy," Wilson drawled out. He sat her down and was rummaging through some drawers for his First Aid Kit.

"I may have flipped out on him and stormed out."

"You've been doing that a lot lately, haven't you?"

"He just frustrates me so much!" She sounded like she was a fifteen year old girl complaining about her first crush, and Wilson couldn't help but smile. Having found his kit, he walked over to her and began to finish what House had started.

"I bet he could say the same thing about you."

"I don't do it intentionally."

"Does he?"

"Yes."

Wilson paused and raised an eyebrow.

"I know he used to, but do you think that he intentionally drives you crazy now?"

"I don't know." She paused. "Yes. No."

"He asked you to go to the funeral with him."

"I don't do funerals."

"Do you think that he does?"

"Wilson, the last funeral that I went to was my husbands, and I collapsed and had to be taken to the hospital. Before that it was Jakes funeral. I don't _do _funerals."

"He's been worried about you." Cameron cocked her head at the subject change.

"What?"

"Ever since you told him about your life growing up. He's been worried. House doesn't talk about things like that, but I can see it in his eyes. The first thing that he does every day is go down to the ER and watch you for a few minutes. You're usually very busy, so you don't notice, but after I saw it on Wednesday, I watched him, and he did it for the next six days. I wouldn't be surprised if that's why he wants you to come with him. He's scared for you."

"I don't like being treated differently because of my past Wilson. I told him that."

"He's liked, maybe even _loved_ you for years, kid. You sprung something on him completely out of left field."

"I hate sports metaphors," Cam grumbled.

"Doesn't make it any less true."

"Make what any less true?"

"He likes you. You scared him. He wants to keep you close."

"Or he's pushing me."

"Pushing you?"

"If you harass someone enough they leave."

A lesson well learned from her childhood. If you acted like a terror no one wanted you.

"He's still the five year old boy at heart who pulls your hair on the playground and runs away, but that doesn't mean that he likes you any less. It just means he's _scared_. Something I'm sure you can relate to. And his dad just died."

"I don't do funerals."

"Did I ask you to go?" Wilson asked with patience.

"No." She was sulking now, and Wilson hugged her.

"Can I show you something?"

"Depends."

"I'll take that as a 'yes'."

He went to his desk and found the pictures he had yet to give House and handed her the one that Tina had told him to harass House about.

"Did you see these yet?"

"No." She flipped the photo over and smiled. "Tina at it again."

"He likes you."

"Are we in middle school?"

"Elementary school," Wilson corrected. "We're still at the pulling hair and then running away to laugh about it stage, remember?"

Cameron chuckled and glanced back down at the picture. If she didn't know any better she would have assumed that they were together. Maybe not in love, but _something._

And with that realization, Cameron knew that she had to go talk to him.

**

* * *

**She had a song - a Beatles song, just like Jake. She used to sing _Hey Jake_ to him, because a long time ago, before that, she had a foster father who loved The Beatles. Ever night a different song before she went to bed. And, sometimes, he would sing _Dear Allie_ to her. It never failed to make her smile.

But now, sitting in Houses' apartment, the Beatles playing softly and hearing her song – she flinched. Tina would have known to change the song, but Tina wasn't there. She had no buffer.

House watched her with a raised brow.

"Are you going to sit there all night and examine my wall or tell me why you came?"

"Neither." Cameron hesitated. "I was shot House. There is a scar on my leg from a bullet. And it hurts. And I know you were shot, but you don't understand." She paused again.

"The first day at Linda and Ron's, they took us shopping and Linda bought us stuffed animals. That night we had dinner, and I helped Linda cook it. Ron – Ron didn't like the potatoes she made. He threw the plate at her, and it shattered. I learned that night how to stitch someone's arm up. The day after that Ron came home from work with flowers for me and Linda and a baseball and bat so he could teach Jake how to play baseball. The next day when Jake didn't catch all of the balls that Ron threw at him, he was hit for every one he missed. We were used to it, of course," she continued on, oblivious to the horror on his face. Her hands were interesting and if she stared at them, she didn't have to look at him.

"So, it was no big shock to get the crap beat out of you one day and hugs and kisses and jokes the next. It's the way I grew up, and when I was re-placed after everything that happened I was so confused as to why no one was hitting me that I actually _asked_ my foster mother why my foster dad hadn't beat me yet."

Cameron drifted off to another place, one House couldn't see. The shock on her foster moms face, the way she had immediately called Social Services to ask what the hell had happened to the girl while she was in the system.

"You see House, I don't do this stuff. I can act out the touchy-feely, the emotions, connect with the patients even, but there comes a level where I can't anymore. And one of those levels would be going with you somewhere that I may _never_ be ready to go." She stood up. "The truth is that I'm damaged. Yes. And I'm broken. More then you, and more than you could ever imagine. I didn't let it get me down, but its there. It's there right on the inside. Just below the surface there is a ten-year-old girl who screams _run as fast and as far as you can because you're going to get hurt. And it's going to be badly. Very badly. _And _that_ is the real reason why I can't go to the funeral with you."

She stood to leave but House caught her wrist.

"When they took out my thigh I lost a part of myself. You lost part of yourself too. And you still haven't found it." House hadn't either, but he covered it up with snark.

"Why did you want me to go to your dad's funeral, House?" It was an off topic question and House froze. "And the truth please. Not the BS about me being a buffer. You don't care about what others think of you."

"I go to sleep," House explained softly, "and you're dead."

Cameron froze. She knew those dreams. Had lived them more then once. Knew that the argument _but I'm not dead_ wouldn't help.

So, instead she tried a variation. Something that the therapist she had once went to had taught her mother.

Cameron took a step towards him and placed a gentle hand on his cheek.

"I'm right here." She searched his face, looking for something, anything to show that he knew she meant it. "And I can't go to that funeral, House. But you can call me. And I will answer my phone. I'm not dead, just damaged."

She had shown him most of her visible scars – except for one of the most important ones.

The wound in her thigh from when she was shot. It held more emotional baggage then any of her other scars combined.

But, trust had to start somewhere. And what better place then at the crux of so many of her problems?

Cameron took a deep breath and shoved down her jeans. "Ron shot me." Tears glistened in her eyes as House took in the old bullet wound on her leg. "Ron shot me and it broke me. It shattered whatever I had left of little girl dreams and fairy tales and happy endings. And he killed Jake. My little brother. My only friend."

He hobbled to a stand and carefully removed his jeans to his knees. "My thigh."

Cameron stared at his face, until he met her eyes with the slightest nod. She looked down, but didn't gasp. She moved forward slowly and touched his leg with gentle fingers. He let out a quiet hiss, but Cameron didn't remove her hand until she had finished tracing the scar. She looked up at him, and there was no pity.

It was always one of his bigger fears. Women didn't want a broken man unless they wanted to fix him. But Cameron was just as broken as he was, if not more so.

She let out a deep sigh and slid her pants back up. There were more scars on her person. There was one particularly intimate one on her inner hips, on her pelvis that she had gotten from a baseball bat and a swift kick. To this day she couldn't recall exactly what had happened, but there had been a knife as well, a concussion and a matching scar for Jake.

House shifted, painfully drawing his pants back up and then popping a vicodin.

"So…" He started before letting his voice trail off.

Cameron echoed him.

"This isn't going to be easy," House warned her. Even as he was speaking he had no idea what 'this' was.

Cameron gazed at him for a moment. "No one ever said it was going to be easy House. They just said it was going to be worth it."


	15. Chapter 15

Sorry for the wait. Next break is going to be longer.... aptesting and finals. Thanks to MissingCancelledShows for beta'ing as always.

* * *

**Chapter 15: Funeral**

House shifted uncomfortable before he stood to speak.

"There's a lot of people here today. Including some from the Corps." That was where the lies he had planned to spout out for his mother disappeared.

"And I noticed that every one of them, is either my father's rank, or higher. And that doesn't surprise me. Because if the test of a man is how he treats those he has power over... it was a test my father failed." He thought of Allison Cameron and her scars. Her face when she showed them to him. Power. The people who gave her those scars – both physical and mental – had broken her. Just like his father had done to him. And she deserved someone better then him. Someone to put her back together. But he had given up on trying to send her away. He was selfish sometimes.

"This man you're eager to pay homage to, he was incapable of admitting any point of view but his own. He punished failure, he did not accept anything less than..." House thought of his thigh. How embarrassed his father had been about his leg. That it wasn't a war wound. Just gotten from living. He knew that his father didn't know that he had heard him talking to his mother. _Better off dead with a leg like that_.

"He loved doing what he did, he saw his work as some kind of sacred calling, more important than any personal relationship. Maybe if he'd been a better father, I'd be a better son." _One who could take care of Allison Cameron instead of watching her break because of some asshole named Ron. _"But I am what I am because of him, for better or for worse." And his mother, who was staring and him up from the crowd. Disappointment, but unconditional love. Which was good because he didn't give a damn what anybody else thought. His mother would be the one who always loved him unconditionally. Not like his father. _Never _like his father. And Cameron seemed to love him unconditionally as well.

_They just said it was going to be worth it,_ echoed in his head as he stepped down. He needed to call her.

* * *

Cameron sat still. Very still. She had seen a group of interns walk by and do a double take as if to make sure she was real.

"Blondie?" Tina paused on the inside of the door. "I got a frantic call from Wilson who was reacting to a frantic House who had not heard from you, even though you _promised_ that you would call."

Cameron didn't move a muscle. "Al?" No response. "Now you're starting to scare me."

"I thought that I would do Houses' mail today. His new team doesn't know how to do it."

"I'm sorry that that decision caused you to ignore -" Tina pulled Cameron's cell phone out of her own pocket. She had snatched it earlier from her locker. "Twenty seven calls and nine texts."

"Read it." Cameron demanded softly, handing her a letter. "Read it."

"Dear Dr. Cameron, -" Tina broke off. "This is addressed to you."

"No shit Sherlock. Keep going."

"My name is Cynthia Jones. You don't know me, but you're my dau-" Tina put her hand over her mouth. "Al." Cameron grabbed the letter back.

"Her son. He's sick. Dying. She found out about House. When I was still on his team. At the same time she had a private investigator trying to track me. Her son – he has cancer. Needs a bone marrow transplant. I could be a match. But there's something else wrong with him besides the cancer and no one knows what. Two birds with one stone." Cameron's tone turned mocking and she started to quote the letter. "I know that you may want nothing to do with my family – but you are a doctor. And you took a Hippocratic oath to 'first do no harm'. I hope that you don't take in to consideration my actions while thinking of my son." Her voice shook, reaching a high pitch as she stabbed the letter. "My sons name is Jacob." A tear made its way down her cheek. "He's his age Tina. His age, his name. There's no pictures, but they might look alike. What then?" Tears were streaming down her face now. "It's like God is playing a joke on me. How far can I be pushed until I snap?"

Cameron finally collapsed into Tina's arm sobbing and Tina rocked her as if she were a child, no words of comfort crossing her lips. She didn't know what to say.

**

* * *

**

"Tina!" Wilson's voice was full of relief. "Have you found her?"

"Yeah."

"Is she okay?"

Tina snorted. "That's debatable."

"Physically?"

"Well, besides wanting to tear out her DNA and change it, I would say yes."

"What happened?"

"Hang on." A door opened in the background. He could hear muffled voices. "Allison Cameron – family emerg- don't know – long- thank ---."

"Tina?"

"I'm here. Had to go tell your boss Al needed time off."

"What's wrong?"

"Don't worry. We're coming to you. I think Allie needs House. Or Ian. But Ian is on vacation with the kids and Ellen. So we're coming to you because there is no way that Al is staying in Princeton for now."

**

* * *

**

Wilson entered the living room to find House and Blythe staring at each other. "Tina?" House asked.

"They'll be down here in a few hours."

House turned to look at Wilson. "She refused when I asked."

"Yeah, well something happened. Tina was distracted. Didn't say what. Talked to Cuddy and got Al some emergency leave – something about family. She said they'd be down here in a couple of hours. That was all."

House nodded.

"Who are Tina and Al?" Blythe asked curiously.

"Friends."

"Which one of them sent the flowers and signed your name?"

House raised his head and Blythe pointed to the flowers on the windowsill. "Al," Wilson replied.

House nodded. "It's her nature."

Blythe's eyes sparkled. "So it's two girls."

Wilson chuckled. "Two _women_," he corrected gently.

Blythe nodded. "Which one of you wants to tell me about them?"

"_Mo-om_" House groaned out.

"Oh hush. I'm an old woman. And if they're driving out here to see the two of you, something must be going on."

"Al is having a mental break down, from what I could gather," House replied with a sigh. "Why didn't they go to Alice?"

"Tina wanted to get her out of there. Said that there was no way that she was staying in Princeton as of right now."

* * *

Tina spent the first forty five minutes on the phone. She called Alice, called Heather and Ross, called Ian and left him a message. Allison sat in the car and stared out the window. Tina had packed for her – her cousin seemed to be in a shocked, comatose state.

Most of the drive was spent in silence or singing along to the radio.

Tina just prayed to a God that Allie didn't believe in that House could talk to her. Because she wasn't responding to Tina.

**

* * *

**

It was dark by the time that they finally found Blythe House's house. Tina had called Wilson and given him a ten minute warning, so all three were standing outside when Tina pulled into the driveway. House was opening Cameron's door before the car was fully in park.

She looked at him blankly and sighed.

"Hi."

"What happened?"

"I'm moving to Africa."

"No you're not babe," Tina responded, walking over to Al's side of the car.

It had been Allison typical response when something bad happened when they were younger. _Nothing happened I'm fine. When I grow up I'm moving to Africa and saving lives so I don't have to be here anymore._

"Tell her I'm dead. But maybe we can dig me up and try and figure out a way to get some marrow."

"Take it back Allison Jane."

"What'cha gonna do?"

The defensiveness in Allison's tone didn't go unnoticed by Tina. She just sighed and shook her head before turning to House and Wilson. "We saw a hotel a few miles back, so we should probably go check in. I just thought that you'd like to see that she's not dead." There was no mocking in Tina's tone, only fact.

"You can stay here," Blythe cut in warmly.

All four looked extremely uncomfortable at the suggestion.

"We really shouldn't impo-"

"They would be more comfo-"

"No tha-"

"We don't have enou-"

"I insist." The look on her face showed that they weren't going to get of it.

* * *

Blythe House watched as her son talked to the blonde girl. Her face was devoid of emotion and she looked young and vulnerable. She wondered what had frightened this girl so badly.

Wilson and the gir – _woman _that they had referred to earlier as Tina appeared with luggage. "Where do you want us to put this Mrs. House?"

"Do you and Allison mind sharing a room?" If they did she could always make James and Greg she supposed.

"No, not at all. In fact, it would probably be better if we did." Tina made a face. Allison had been prone to nightmares sometimes and she could see them reoccurring tonight.

"Is Al okay?" Wilson asked as they followed Blythe.

"No." Tina replied honestly. "And I don't know how to help her."

"I thought you were Wonder Woman," Wilson teased.

"Not this time. I need Ian. But Ian's out of town and this is beyond Alice's area of expertise. House is good at taking care of Al. Even when she's being a pain in the ass. This time though, she's just in pain."

Blythe opened the spare bedroom that she had just recently redone and smiled at the two of them.

"I'm going to make some tea, can I get you anything?"

"No thanks Mrs. House." Tina smiled at her warmly. "Thank you for letting us stay here."

"No problem dear."

"And I heard about your husband. I'm so sorry."

Blythe House grinned at Tina and accepted the hand she offered. James Wilson had been her sons best friend for years. And it looked like he may have finally found the right one.

* * *

Tina had packed for her and her cousin in a hurry. She had grabbed some of Allison's clothes for herself – they were the same size. But, that was how Al ended up with her only pajama shirt being the _damaged at best_ one that Tina loathed.

Blythe had seen it when they had trekked back downstairs and had merely started to make tea.

Cameron settled onto the couch next to House with a steaming cup of green tea in her hands.

"So what's the big occasion? You drove all the way out here just to see me?" She merely handed him the letter and burrowed into the couch.

House read, and as he read his fists slowly clenched.

"What do you want me to do?" He asked finally.

"Whud me?"

"Cam, unclench so I can hear you please."

"What do you mean?" If Tina was in the room she would be curled into her cousin. But, she wasn't.

_What the hell? _She though. They were trying this, _whatever_ they wanted to call it. She curled up against House and rested her head on his shoulder.

"I mean, she clearly wants your bone marrow to be tested, and I can't make that decision, but if you want me to ignore her request for her son's treatment, I will. If you want me to take it, I will."

"I don't know what you should do."

"Well, what are you going to do?"

"Do no harm."

"Do no harm to yourself or harm to others?"

"I'm fine."

"Sure," was his mild reply. "I can see that you're fine. Your cousin drove you all the way out here because you're so fine. You're in shock. Or something. Your birth mother wants you to save her son. Instead of being raised by said birth mother you went through hell and then finally ended up with your crazy family."

Cameron giggled.

"If you're going through hell,  
keep on going, don't slow down  
if you're scared don't show it,  
you -"

"Not the time to be singing Al." The words slipped out without thought. He was used to hearing her being called Al. She didn't seem to notice, only shook her head.

"Yes it is."

"We're going to talk about this. You drove all the way out here to talk. And then you can sing."

Allison tilted her head to look at House, face set.

"When I was six, I was moved from the only family that I had ever known. At seven I met Jake and we were inseparable. He was my best friend. My brother. I got beaten and abused. I have so many scars House. So many. At ten, I watched as Jake bled to death. I watched and I sang to him because there was nothing else that I could do. And I wished for my mother. Oh boy, did I wish for my mother. I wanted someone to love me and protect me. Keep all the demons away. There weren't any monsters _under_ the bed for me. There were monsters _on top_ of me. And now she's here. But she's not here because she wants me. She's here because she wants my body. And I want to know why she gave me up. Why she gave me up but not her son who is only a few years younger then me. If she had kept me I would have grown up with a brother named Jake. But I wouldn't have ended up where I am. It doesn't matter. She's still a part of me. I want to know if we have the same colored eyes and what my father's name was. I want to know if she's hyperopic like me. If her son is allergic to berries and breaks out in hives like I do. If we have matching birthmarks under our right arms. And at the same time I want to not be a match for her son. I want her to go through all the pain that I went through. I want -"

She swallowed hard. "I want her to _love me_. But because I'm hers. Not because I'm the woman who could save her sons life. So I don't know what to do. I can't make a decision because I'm the Allison Cameron with the bleeding heart that you know, but I'm also the AJ that went through hell and back again because this woman wasn't ready to take care of me."

* * *

**Quotes from Birthmarks**

**If You're Going Through Hell - Rodney Atkins**

**Hyperopic – it means being unable to focus on close-range objects....just a fancy term for long-sightedness (It's mentioned in one of the episodes, but I can't recall which one.)**


End file.
